The Swordmaker
by Stephensmat
Summary: Her father taught her that forging a sword took work. Smelting away the impurities was a key part. If the metal had impurities, the sword was weak. Jaeger Pilots were the Sword of Humanity, and she owed it to her family to keep the blade strong. And when she grew up, she would be stronger still. She was the sword. She was the swordmaker. These are key moments of Mako's life.
1. Tokyo Girl

Japan understood the point of sea monsters. Mako's earliest memory was her father reading to her from a book of old Oriental fairy tales and sea poems.

_"Massively you dwell, O dragon of the Triple World. I__n the great iron cage of the sea. But when the dead mists of the half-eaten moon stir the waters and open your cage. You rise in effulgent glory. A great flash of livingness, eye and wind, tongue, and water. To swallow the wayward sailor's floating world. Spare our ship O dragon, remain embedded in stone. Humbly we speak your name,__Gojira."_

The Americans had taken their sea monsters for movies and entertainment. The Kaiju had gone there first. Mako had always thought that was a pretty vicious little irony. Make light of the monsters, and they will eat you.

She found it considerably less ironic when the attacks continued.

* * *

Mako was twelve years old when she met Stacker Pentecost. It was the best part of the worst day of her life.

Pentecost had stepped down from the Jaeger. In the MK-1 Series, it was possible to do that. Nobody was quite sure how to be an expert in this kind of combat yet. He stayed with Mako until the helicopters came, and then sat her on the edge of the dumpster she'd hidden behind. The battle had spread out across a good third of the city, and Mako had a good view of him attaching the helicopter's grapnels to the Jaeger at various points.

Once the helicopters had managed to lift what was left of the war machine, and the Medivac choppers had taken his co-pilot away for treatment, Pentecost returned to the little orphan girl. Even then, she could tell he didn't want to be there. He wanted to be with his copilot.

She was not offended. She was grateful. Her father had believed in the old ways, of ancestral spirits and reincarnated souls. It was said by those that followed such beliefs that Jaeger Pilots had all found their Soul Mates. Not their true love, or anything so simple and tawdry as romance. A True Soul Mate was someone who's soul was tied to another's through dozens, even hundreds of generations, finding each other all over again in each new incarnation, to the point where the Universe demanded they be together unto eternity. If his was wounded, it would have been a supreme act to leave her side, for the sake of a little girl that could have been handed off to anyone else.

With the press, and the Medics, and the military, and the Shatterdome all demanding his attention, Stacker Pentecost came back to Mako first.

"I want to see it." She demanded. It was the first thing she had said to him.

"Do you know where the shelter is?"

"Not my family." Mako said tightly. "I know they're gone. I want to see it."

Pentecost hesitated for a moment, before he held out a hand and she took it, her tiny fingers threading through his. It was a long walk for them, through wrecked streets. Jaegers moved fast, and Kaiju moved faster; the battle that had saved her life had crushed plenty of buildings, including the shelter her family was in at the time.

But eventually, they got there.

* * *

War often had immortal moments.

That year, the famous photo was of a little girl, With one red shoe dangling from her left hand, her right holding the hand of a Jaeger pilot, as both of them looked out at the body of a massive Kaiju beast.

After Pentecost had taken her to the Shelter... what was left of it, she had curled up in a ball in his lap and sobbed. It wasn't just because of her family. It was because she knew he wasn't staying.

The other survivors were glad to meet him of course. His partner had returned to the Dome to receive medical attention and make her report, but Pentecost had stayed with Mako, personally taking her to the shelter, then the refugee centre.

He had carried her on his hip the entire time. She still hadn't put her shoes back on.

The other kids knew to give her plenty of room. The Press had somehow got hold of the Gun Camera footage. The whole country had seen little Mako Mori running down an empty street, with a Class Two Kaiju giving chase. There had been rumors that the Kaiju had been given specific instructions, searching for specific people. Those that believed such things were terrified of this five year old orphan. If the Kaiju had taken an interest in her for some reason...

Mako didn't care. She avoided the other kids too.

* * *

The Press had come for her, to do interviews. Mako was not agreeable.

"Do you have anything to say to the people at the Shatterdome?" The last interview tried to round it out with a heartwarming moment of gratitude from the little girl to the hero that had saved her.

Mako looked into the camera. "Tell him I'm still here." She said to the whole world, though it was a message meant for one man in particular. "I don't need anyone to look after me. I just need to be where the Jaegers are."

The woman interviewing her should have taken the hint, but was still trying to make this a softer human interest story. "Well, we all feel better when they're around."

"The Kaiju killed my family." Mako glared severely into the camera, the hardest a twelve year old girl could ever be. "And I'm going to kill every single one of them."

The woman interviewing her tried to laugh it off, make it lighter. "A future Jaeger pilot in the making, right here..."

Mako glared. "I _am_ a Jaeger pilot." She declared. "It's not my fault nobody made a Jaeger my size."

They had played that clip over and over for almost a week. In that time, some of the orphans were placed into foster care, but not Mako.

* * *

A week after that, she had a visitor. A woman with red hair, a body in her thirties, a face in her fifties, and eyes in their eighties. "You must be Mako Mori."

Mako looked up at her. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Tasmin." The woman said, sitting down heavily on Mako's cot. "You wouldn't recognize me, but we've actually met before. I was Stacker's co-pilot. I'm half the reason you're still alive."

Mako knew she should have said 'thank you', but she and the grown woman were locked in a staring contest, as though they were weighing each other up.

"I saw the interview." Tasmin commented. "Stacker says that you're in pain, but you'll grow out of it." She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her jacket and lit one up. "I don't think you will."

"Promise you and him will save some Kaiju for me?" Mako commented.

Tasmin found that hilarious and laughed around her cigarette. Then her nose started bleeding. She noticed the flow and scowled.

Mako noticed too. After Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Fukishima, and then the Kaiju, every kid in Japan knew how to spot certain signs. "Radi-shun?" Mako asked in worry, tripping over the complicated word.

Tasmin nodded. "Yup. That's where Stacker's been all week. He never forgot you, kid. But I think he's trying to decide if you'd be safer with anyone else."

"The Kaiju killed my family!" Mako protested.

Tasmin was not sympathetic. "Hey! I got news for you, kid: Every Jaeger pilot alive has lost someone. Including Stacker. His sister was one of the first Jaeger pilots around. He lost her." She gestured at her face. "And he just recently found out he's lost me, too. If you knew anything about what it's like; you'd know that losing me is gonna hurt him worse than his sister did. The whole godforsaken world's an orphanage. You don't get to jump the queue just because you're angry." She reached out and tapped Mako on the nose, hard. "And if you want to be a Jaeger pilot, the one thing you can't be is emotional. Stacker? His anger is cold. It makes him _strong_. Understand?"

Mako was about to scream, when Tasmin clapped a hand over her mouth. "If you want to control something like a Jaeger, the first thing you've gotta learn is to control _yourself_. Start with your mind. Your mind trains the heart. Your heart trains your body. You wanna be a Pilot, you need all three. Understand?"

It was the first lesson Mako had ever got in how to be a Jaeger Pilot, and she nodded; learning. "Like Samurai?"

"Big-Ass Steel Samurai, that's us. The Jaegers aren't the sword of the Human Race. The pilots are." Tasmin suddenly seemed exhausted. "Move over."

Mako did so, and Tasmin stretched out on the cot, sitting upright against the wall. "You haven't even unpacked your stuff."

"I've been... waiting." Mako excused.

Tasmin nodded. "He'll be here soon." She slid up her sleeve a bit, revealing a Medic Bracelet. "Just as soon as he figures out that I left the hospital, he'll do a scan for my bracelet and find where I snuck out to. He'll be here."

"And then... we'll go?" Mako said hopefully.

Tasmin sighed. "We will... apprentice."

* * *

Mako's official designation was 'civilian assistant'. It was the only way to get her out of the Orphanage.

Mako was welcomed by most in the Shatterdome. More than she thought she would. The Jaeger Program was on call, around the clock. The teams all had living quarters on the base, and only some of them were military. Everyone else had to make their lives work in the Dome. Everyone from the Biology Lab to the Kitchen Staff. They had daycare centres, they had schools, they had gyms and PX's.

Stacker was promoted out of the front lines, but nobody told Mako why. Tasmin was too, and they shared Mako for a month. Every meeting, a young Mako Mori would march along behind the pilots of Coyote Tango with a clipboard in one hand.

Stacker and Tasmin were part of the training for new pilots. Mako got to sit in on a lot of lessons. The adults all assumed the child would be bored out of her skull, but Mako was pleased. She was the first person to start her lessons at the age of twelve. As far as she was concerned, she'd be ready for combat a lot sooner.

Pentecost had tried to talk her out of it. He took care of the girl, making sure she ate, making sure she had fresh clothes, and was keeping up with her homework from the regular classes. He had taken the job of her father, but never tried to replace him. Mako was glad for that. Pentecost reminded her of her father. He was gentle with her, and hard with everything else.

Pentecost took care of the girl. Tasmin forged the sword.

Tasmin was not maternal in any way. She was a drill Sargent. She would take Mako to the gym, to the Dojo, to the Laboratory. She would make Mako run faster than any student in her school at the athletics try-outs. She would make Mako recite facts about Kaiju physiology. There would be pop quizzes at dinner, during bathroom breaks, during recess. On nights that she stayed with Pentecost, he read her bedtime stories. When she stayed with Tasmin, she recited Jaeger Ordinance.

The Dojo was Mako's favorite part. Her father had taught her about Kendo weapons, and even gifted her with a Hanbo Staff. He had told her that when she was older, he would teach her to use it.

Tasmin had no trouble teaching her now.

She was never overly harsh, and often tossed a sudden joke into the training, and every dojo match ended with a long hug. But she held Mako to the same standard as the adult recruits. Mako knew why she was doing it. Pentecost wanted her to let go of her anger toward the Kaiju; and Tasmin wanted to break her. Pentecost was trying to turn her back into a normal pre-teen, and Tasmin was trying to make her early training so hard she'd give up.

Neither of them succeeded, but they made her strong, and reminded her that she was loved at every opportunity.

The other pilots regarded Mako like a team mascot. Until their first debrief with Tasmin. Then they were terrified of her.

* * *

Tasmin slouched at the podium, reading through the manifests. Almost two dozen pilots were assembled in the briefing room, and Miss Mori stood at the front of the room, at sharp attention.

"All right folks." Tasmin called the room to attention. "The moment you're all waiting for: The Simulator Scores!"

The whole room catcalled and cheered. There were five teams for every Jaeger being built. The scorecard was the ultimate prize. The top ten got a Jaeger to pilot.

Tasmin hit a button on the podium, and the viewscreen lit up brightly with the teams score, ranked highest to lowest. There was a bright yellow line... separating the top nine, instead of the top ten.

"Now then..." Tasmin commented, slightly sharklike. "I was planning on making this morning's lecture quick. Put up the scores, and then show you some really gruesome shots of Boneslums popping up; and tell you why this is actually a bad thing. But it turns out, we don't need the theory." She gestured grandly at the screen. "One of our blessed top ten failed to hold the simulated Miracle Mile." Tasmin gestured to Mako without looking. "Who was this profound letdown, sweetie?"

Mako was still standing ramrod straight, stonefaced. "Captains Paul and Greg Koffey."

Sure enough, the Captains Koffey were on the list in tenth place. And for the first time, being in the Top Ten wasn't enough to qualify.

"Captain Koffey, front and centre!" Tasmin ordered, and both men stood up. "Care to explain your screwup? Were you distracted by something? Off chasing rabbits?"

"Due Respect, Ma'am; we killed the target, with minimal loss to the simulation." Koffey reported. "We were well within acceptable losses."

Tasmin was not nodding. "You're pleading your case to the wrong person." She said simply, pointing. "The one that bounced you out of the Winner's Circle is right there."

Everyone suddenly shut up in a hurry. If Tasmin was telling the truth, it meant that someone else was deciding their score. And she was pointing at Mako Mori.

Koffey was still facing Tasmin. "Ma'am, there's a hardline for acceptable damage on the simulator. Less than five percent damage is still an automatic passing grade."

Tasmin raised her voice to include Mako. "Miss Mori, that's how the simulator rates them. What's the real number?" She asked. "What is 'acceptable loss'?"

"Zero, ma'am." Mako answered promptly.

"Five percent of a city is code for thousands of people!" Tasmin barked. "I don't know what pencil-necked, pencil-pushing, bean-counting, bureaucratic bastard wrote that into the simulator code, but they're idiots. Apprentice: Educate the Captain."

Mako held up her tablet, which was replaying a CGI fight between a Jaeger and a Kaiju. "You went out too far. The Kaiju was fast enough to go around you."

Koffey was glaring at her tablet. "That's not the simulator."

"Nope." Mako nodded. "But if you can't beat my score, you're not getting a four billion dollar Jaeger." Her glare didn't lighten. "You left your post at the Miracle Mile. You took the bait, and the Kaiju laughed at you." Mako sounded as if she was personally insulted. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Koffey looked at Tasmin, as though expecting to be let in on the joke. Tasmin gave him nothing. Koffey looked back to Mako, who glared at him harder.

"I await an answer." The girl growled and the room murmured.

Koffey wasn't laughing. "Look, sweetie... Fighting in a Jaegers ain't like playing a video game."

"Really?" Mako was not forgiving. "Because the Simulator is supposed to be a 3D model that simulated Kaiju combat." She held up her tablet again. "If I can beat my videogame and you can't, I'm happy to switch." To make the point, Mako tossed her tablet at him.

The room was filled with barely restrained giggles. The Koffey brothers were as smug as any combat pilots, and now they were getting a sharp dressing down from a kid in knee-high socks. The younger of the team was smart enough not to pick a fight with the kid. Tasmin was the one making the choice, she was just having fun about it.

The elder of the team was not so insightful. "I'm not about to justify myself to to a little girl, even if the Marshall has a soft spot for her." He raged. "Comparing the combat sim to a free smartphone app is a joke."

Mako sighed. "I know. That's why I added a few points to your score. I was as forgiving as I could be."

That was the breaking point. Everyone else in the room burst into hysterical laughter.

Mako turned on her heel and marched back to her post beside the podium.

Her father taught her that forging a sword took work. Smelting away the impurities was an important part. If the metal had impurities, the sword was weak. Tasmin had told her that the Jaeger Pilots were the Sword of the Human Race, and she owed it to her family to keep the blade strong. When she grew up, she would be stronger still.

She was the sword. She was the swordsman. She was the swordmaker.

"Top Nine Qualify." Tasmin declared. "We're not here to kill Kaiju, we're here to hold the line; and the top nine were the only ones to do that. That's the line where _people_ are." She jerked a thumb at Mako. "Anyone who can't see the difference? You can take it up with the girl who's only here because we _failed_ to kill a Kaiju **before** it hit the Miracle Mile."

That one hit a little close to home, and two dozen Jaeger Pilots glanced uncomfortably at the young orphan.

Mako Mori stared them all down, hard as a Steel Samurai should be.

* * *

**AN**: _There will be more chapters, but I don't know how many yet. The story will progress as far as the movie, but I don't know how many. The story will lead up to the movie, but I don't know how much of the movie I'll cover. That will depend largely on the reviews (Hint hint)._


	2. Category II

When Mako Mori was fourteen, she met Hannibal Chau for the first time.

The Sensei had taken her to a growing Boneslum in Tokyo City. And there, among the skeletal remains of Onibaba, the first Kaiju to hit Japan, and the same beastie to kill her family, was a thriving Shantytown, which had grown almost as tall as most of the buildings left standing on the Tokyo skyline.

Mako was actually intrigued when they came in on the helicopter. She'd never seen a Boneslum before. Then she recognized the shape of the skull and hated it unconditionally. But the Sensei was going there, and she never even thought of arguing.

Production lines, apartments, marketplaces, all of it was fully functional. Mako noted people carving out chunks of bone during construction. The foot traffic was as intense as anywhere else in the area, and the skeletal skyline was criss-crossed with rope-lines and rope-bridges, so there was always people moving.

Mako didn't know whether to laugh or not. People were hanging their laundry out to dry from Kaiju bones.

Pentecost had taken her to a restaurant set up at the base of the skull. Only a dozen tables, and a serving window out front. Most people took their food to go. The rear wall was solid ivory, with shelves and seats carved into the Kaiju Bone; and the front walls and entrance all made of slapped together wood and canvas.

But the food tasted much like any other Chinese restaurant. Pentecost got them a table, and the two of them had dinner together. Mako preferred it this way. In the Mess Hall, there were always another hundred people crammed in with them.

"What do you think, daughter?" He asked her in Japanese.

Mako considered her answer, and her nose wrinkled. "Smells bad."

Pentecost nodded his agreement, and the cook shouted something angrily at him in Mandarin. Stacker shouted back, and the cook flipped him off.

Mako's opinion about the smell of the place wasn't an insult toward the eatery, it was a fact of the whole Boneslum. Everything there stank of ammonia, and something vaguely acidic that didn't match anything found on earth.

"I was here a month ago." Stacker told her. "The smell is fading, slowly. If you have to live here, it eventually becomes something you don't notice."

Mako shivered. "If you hadn't come and got me, I'd be living in a place like this by now."

Pentecost didn't say anything to that, but he knew she was right. He changed the subject as quickly as he could. "How are your studies going?"

She pushed her Tablet over to him, showing her work. She had been apprenticing with the Engineering Department for a few weeks, learning all she could about the Jaegers.

Pentecost had never told her, but part of him hoped that she would be satisfied with _building_ the huge War Machines. Most of him knew she wouldn't be satisfied with anything less than combat.

She showed him her sketches. They were more like schematics than a kid's crayon drawings. Pentecost ached for her sometimes. Mako never had a childhood. She was a baby, and then she was a soldier.

And then he noticed she had done other sketches, and flipped through them. Drawings of the Base, drawings of the pilots...

Drawings of the Kaiju. Over a dozen of them. Yet oddly, none of them were of Onibaba

He noticed some doodles in the margins, of the Jaeger Coat of Arms.

Every Jaeger had it's own Icon. A symbol that was carried by the flight crew, support staff, and the pilots. Every Jaeger wore their own colors.

Gipsy Danger was just being constructed, and Pentecost had signed off on its Coat of Arms almost a week before. Mako had drawn it flawlessly. He held up the tablet. "Did you design this?"

Mako nodded, looking at her bowl.

"I didn't see your name on the design."

Mako shrugged.

Pentecost hid his smile. She hadn't taken the credit, because she knew that if he didn't know, he couldn't show favoritism.

They ate for a while talking about their work. Even at her age, Mako had been part of every department in the Shatterdome. In a lot of ways, she was his eyes in the Lower Decks. She kept him aware of what the people were serving in the Mess Hall, and what was wanted; improving morale. She told him what the Maintenance Crews were running out of so that he could have it waiting before the requisitions came across the usual channels. She told him when the Janitorial Staff found empty saké bottles in the garbage, so that he knew which of the Jaeger Pilots had started to drink on the job...

And she'd done it all with a big smile, so nobody knew it was her.

Pentecost looked up and suddenly focused on someone walking past outside. "Doctor Geiszler?"

Newt Geiszler was walking past, and froze, caught unawares. "Marshal. Um... hello."

"I was unaware that you frequented Boneslums." Pentecost said flatly. His tone was neutral, but Pentecost was never exactly happy to hear anything.

Mako didn't know either, but she wasn't surprised. Geiszler was fascinated with the Kaiju. Most people were, but Newt Geiszler was more... awestruck than others. He kept his sleeves down, but Mako knew he had tattoos stretching over his shoulders. Every Kaiju that made landfall.

Including the one that killed her family.

Despite that, she liked the new recruit. He'd only been with Pentecost's Team a few weeks, but already he was taking the science teams in directions they hadn't explored before. He was showing them Kaiju tolerances to heat, cold, energy... New Weapons were being designed based on his discoveries.

And more than that, he was changing the parameters of the Pons. Drift Compatibility was expanding to more and more recruits.

Mako liked him, but she knew a Kaiju groupie when she saw one. He would take his... awe for them too far one day.

Geiszler was stammering, trying to justify his presence in the Boneslum. "I was... Um, I was here to meet a man about a dog."

"A dog?" Pentecost repeated.

Geiszler smiled like it made perfect sense. "Yeah. I was thinking that the Shatterdome really needed a Mascot."

"You have me." Mako piped up.

Pentecost almost smiled at that. Almost. Just then, his Phone beeped, and he checked the screen. His face changed instantly, going dark. "Doctor, I need you to take Mako back to the Dome. A matter has arisen."

"Breach?" Mako and Geiszler both said in the same instant. She was worried, he was excited.

"No. Not a Breach." Pentecost told them. "I... have a meeting."

Mako blinked. "Here? Why not the Dome?"

"It's not that kind of meeting." Pentecost told his daughter.

Geiszler was even more excited. "Ooh, confidential? Who? Spy? Black Market? Secret Mistress?"

Pentecost glared and Geiszler grew noticeably smaller. He cleared his throat and followed orders. "Come along, Miss Mori."

"I can help." Mako told Pentecost.

"I know." He told her gently. "Sorry to cut Lunch short."

Mako nodded, and fell into step as Geiszler led her out.

Geiszler kept talking. In fact, he never stopped. It drove his fellow Science Team insane, but Mako didn't care. She let him talk. Tasmin had taught her that people who talked too much gave up all kinds of interesting information.

"So, wonder what that was all about?" Geiszler said without pausing to see if she had anything to add. "It wasn't planned, or he wouldn't have brought you along, but it can't be official, or he wouldn't have had the meeting here, but it can't be salacious because he wouldn't have had it be public; so it must be something clandestine. That is so awesome!"

Mako was calculating. Tasmin had taught her about Classified Material. The Sensei had taught her when to choose her battles. He had taught her that trust and time were weapons too, and they had to be saved for when they would do the most good.

But Mako couldn't help herself. She wanted to know what the meeting was about. Now she just had to get away from Geiszler... Who was still yapping.

"...don't knock the Kaiju meat; you'd think it'd taste like something awful, but really it's more salty. You get the surface skin, and it's downright deadly, but the blubber is ordinary animal fat. No good for you, but try eating a hot dog, Mako; you'd swear the silicon's thicker in there-"

Sensei had taught her about the importance of Strengths and Weaknesses. Using your strengths against the enemies weaknesses was always the most effective strategy.

"So, what have you got here?" Geiszler scooped her Tablet up out of her backpack without even slowing down. "Ooh. Nice sketch. You draw these? This is awesome. Oh look, you've got the dorsal fins! Most people who draw Kaiceph only have the ventral fins. This is cool!"

"Hey look!" Mako called, pointing down the far side of the nearest enormous Rib Bone as if she'd just noticed. "There's a tattoo parlor here."

Geiszler hesitated. The look on his face was blatant longing. He looked from the sketch on her tablet, to the tattoo parlor, back to the tablet.

"If you want to get another tattoo, go ahead." Mako said brightly. "Nobody's expecting me back for a while... And I know you came here looking to get another Kaiju tattoo."

Geiszler was sorely tempted. "The Marshall told me to take you home."

"I won't tell him." Mako promised. "If you test me for Drift Compatibility."

Geiszler was stunned. "Kid, are you serious?"

"I'll keep your secret, you keep mine." Mako offered, and put on the best 'enthusiastic-little-girl' smile she could. "Pleeeease?"

Geiszler shook his head. "No, I shouldn't do that." He said. "But I really wanna, so I probably will. Come on."

She fell into step with him again, heading to the tattoo parlor.

* * *

It was actually fairly interesting. There were all sorts of icons and decals and designs on the walls. Like most things in the Boneslum, it was dedicated to the Kaiju and the Jaegers. Every Kaiju ever spotted was drawn on the walls, in every conceivable pose.

Geiszler went to the artist and held up her tablet, with the drawing he'd noticed on display. "Can you put that on me?"

The artist just stared at her.

"The man wants you to put one of my drawings onto his back." Mako translated sweetly for Geiszler. "Take your time, do it right, and he will pay you big money. He's very rich."

The artist found this to be good, and smiled big at Geiszler, who returned the smile, as he was unceremoniously shoved face-down over a table.

He wouldn't be getting back upright for a while, and Mako quietly slipped out.

* * *

The restaurant had been cleared out. Pentecost was still calmly finishing his meal. The cook was gone, as were the other customers. Just Pentecost... and two guards flanking his guest.

Mako peeked around the door, studying his guest. The man was shorter than Pentecost, but a lot broader in the shoulders. His jaw was pure iron, and his short cropped hair was salt and pepper grey. His clothing was way too colorful to be taken seriously. He was handcuffed to the chair he was sitting in... and he looked like he'd been through a hell of a fight.

The man was talking, and if the fact that he was a prisoner bothered him, it didn't show. "...fair trade. Those fields needed fertilizing. You don't want people to starve, any more than I wanna waste a perfectly good profit margin."

"Free enterprise is fine, but your people put seven guards in the hospital." Pentecost was saying. "And those guards were my people."

"Those guards fired first, or so I heard. And who says that they were my people?" His guest commented. "I myself have no knowledge of such activities."

"Well, hypothetically..." Pentecost shot back with biting sarcasm. "...if they did fire first, that's their right. Looting is a capital offense in any time of war."

"Looting the wounded or the dead, sure." The other man said. "Looting the enemy doesn't count. Spoils of war, and all that."

Pentecost was about to comment, when he suddenly noticed Mako peeking around the door and paled.

The other man noticed the Marshal's scrutiny, and looked over his shoulder. "Ohh... I know you."

Caught, Mako stepped into view. "You do?"

"I do." The colorfully dressed man said with a crocodile smile. "I have a copy of that Newsweek article. Remember, 'Tokyo Girl'?"

Mako's face hardened. "I remember."

"Have a seat, sweetie; let me introduce myself. I'm Hannibal Chau." He gave her a slight bow, even with his hands cuffed behind his back. "And I am _very_ pleased to meet you."

Mako came over and sat down at the table between them. Pentecost almost looked scared.

"Look, Marshall, we both know that if you lock me away, ten more guys would be taking my place the next day." Chau said coolly, never taking his eyes off Mako. "And at least a few of them would have worked for me at one time or another. And they'd know why I was in jail."

Pentecost said nothing. His eyes were flicking back and forth between Mako and Hannibal Chau.

"Isn't it better if such a business was under the control of a great humanitarian?" Hannibal said with a grin. "I don't gouge. I don't break thumbs. Much." He leaned back in his chair. "The next guy won't be so good, and you know it. Sometimes, I sell stuff on credit; simply because they can't afford it until they get my supplies." If he wasn't handcuffed, he'd be spreading his arms wide. "And if you did push it, I'd have a hundred guys waiting to testify that I was across town helping little old ladies across the street when I was supposedly near the Boneslum looting. Help the innocent, that's my motto." He was grinning at Mako.

Pentecost said nothing.

"That's what you're in the business of, isn't it? Protecting the innocent?" Chau was grinning like a shark, and Mako suddenly realized she should be worried, though she didn't know why.

Pentecost leaned forward. "Look. I don't have a problem with seventy percent of the stuff you do. That other thirty percent? It's getting people hurt."

"Well I'm a businessman, Marshal; flexibility is the name of the game." Chau leaned forward. "Make me an offer."

"We have an interest in how you manage to get your specimens alive." Pentecost observed. "No other science team, government of private, has been able to achieve that."

"If you knew how? Would you share that information?" Chau pointed out. "Of course, we don't have to tell you how we do it, just as long as we keep you in what you need."

Pentecost considered that. "We'd need a pretty good supply. If I'm going to sell my superiors on that, they'd also need some pretty significant altruism on your part. For example, Kaiju white cells can make an irradiated field grow healthy again. Kaiju dung can make it grow unthinkably high yields. You're already selling to small home gardens, so a bulk order shouldn't be hard. I figure it'd take about thirty percent of your usual collection-"

"Ten." Chau countered instantly.

"Thirty, and I let you leave with all your teeth." Pentecost shot back.

"Twenty five and I won't go looking for this young lady." Chau countered, jerking his head in Mako's direction.

"Thirty, and I won't cut off your head, stick it on a pike, mount it on this table, and have your second in command dragged in here to get offered the same deal you turned down." His gaze was pure iron. "This isn't a negotiation between equals."

If Hannibal was intimidated, it didn't show. "Thirty it is. I think we can officially call it a done deal."

"There's nothing official about this." Pentecost warned. "The regular clean up crews won't be told to give you dibs, and they won't be moving slower because of this."

"Don't worry, we'll be as ghosts in this." Hannibal promised. "Plus, look on the bright side. Eventually, the Kaiju will take out another city or three, and those Cleanup Crews will be busy enough that my guys can take their time."

"Over our dead bodies." Mako put in.

"That's sort of the point, my dear." Hannibal grinned. "Stacker, if you take these cuffs off, I'd be willing to shake on it."

Stacker signaled the guards, who stepped forward and released the prisoner. He slipped a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and made his goodbyes.

It was a long time before Mako looked back on that day and realized that she was being threatened by Hannibal Chau.

* * *

"Why did you not throw him in jail?" Mako asked quietly.

"You think I should have?"

Mako hesitated. "I would."

Pentecost met the girl's hard eyes. There was no hint of mercy there. Her anger had never cooled. Tasmin's warning to turn her rage to her advantage was something she had taken to heart. Mako's anger had turned cold and deadly. It made her driven. It made her smart. And worst of all, it made her patient.

"Mako..." He said softly. "Come with me."

* * *

He took her to the lower levels of the Boneslum. It was like a lot of places in Asia. Once the Kaiju were done with it, most people were living with little more than the clothes on their back. Living in slapped together tents and shacks were nothing unusual, but in a Boneslum, the apartments were divided by the spaces between the Kaiju toes and fingers, or the spaces between the vertebrae.

The arm bones had stairs carved into them, and Pentecost led her up. The solid bone beneath their feet was as solid a foundation as any concrete. The thoroughfare had open markets and rickshaw stalls. People were grilling slabs of meat on home-made grills; but Mako couldn't guess if they were trying to sell Kaiju meat.

Pentecost led her deeper in; toward the Kaiju elbow. The complex network of bones still had tendons strung along it, used to hold up tarps and sunshades.

"Why are we here?" Mako asked, and her nose wrinkled again. The whole place stunk of Kaiju blood. She saw people who were warped in face and hobbled in body from ingesting the Kaiju Blue.

Pentecost pointed at them. "Now. That's the downside of living in a Boneslum. What's the upside?"

Mako took it like one of her lessons about Kaiju. "Housing. The Boneslum is cheap, and most of these people have nothing."

"What else?"

Mako struggled to think. "Well, black mart."

"Black Market." Stacker corrected automatically. "Tell me something, Mako: Why do you think we cannot just arrest them all? Or for that matter, why don't we break up the Boneslums? It's illegal to loot Kaiju bodies, so why not to build towns?"

Mako shrugged. "We got more important things to squish."

Stacker actually laughed. "Not wrong, but there's another reason. That reason is that in a lot of ways, it's the only option."

Mako said nothing. She didn't understand what he meant, so she didn't bother guessing.

Stacker pointed out various aspects of the Boneslum. "There's very little shipping left in the Pacific. Before you were born, they had ships the size of a Kaiju taking goods back and forth between countries. But after the third Attack, nobody was willing to insure the goods, and thus began the shortages." He looked at her pointedly. "You've never had to live in a world _without_ food rationing, my dear. Time was you didn't need vouchers to get anything at all. So. Why do you think we don't just put Boneslummers and Black Marketeers in jail?"

Mako looked around the Boneslum with careful scrutiny. She hadn't walked through an Asian City since leaving Tokyo. Almost all the people she could see looked just like her old neighbors.

In fact, now that she thought of it...

Mako shut her eyes. "You don't arrest them, because everyone's here because they've got no other choice."

Stacker didn't blink. "No, that's why they come here. We let them, because we don't have a choice either."

Mako blinked. "Huh?"

Stacker pointed to the rickshaws selling Kaiju products, the vendors grilling Kaiju meat. "Those people have lost their homes and their jobs. Farms can't produce food once we've nuked the Kaiju stomping over it, and we can't build a new Jaeger _and_ a city every week. You were in The System once. Would you wish that on a whole city full of people?"

Mako said nothing, but she wouldn't.

"Truth is, if they find a place to live and a way to avoid starvation without the UN having to spend a dime, then they don't much mind. And if people are willing to throw money at anything that comes off a Kaiju, then that's support nobody else has to pay. Look around, Mako. Every Yen spent here is another one we don't need to take away from the Dome."

That was an angle Mako could appreciate. She looked around with fresh eyes. Suddenly she didn't hate them any more. They were part of the war effort. They were War Refugees that made money for the War.

Mako found herself smiling. One small forgiveness, one small part of her hate for the Kaiju healed.

Stacker watched her subtly and declared victory. Mako had a lot of anger in her, and if he could turn the things she was angry about into a way to fight Kaiju, she would embrace them wholeheartedly.

"May I ask a question, Sensei?" Mako asked. "Why Chau?"

Stacker considered the question a moment. "Top Secret?"

Mako mimed zipping her mouth. She knew the importance of secrets. She knew that Stacker was going to be running her whole War at some point, and she knew that half the things she overheard in the Mess Hall wouldn't have been whispered if the ones doing the whispering thought she understood them.

Stacker lowered his voice. "There is a man in the Boneslum that I trust. He tells me there are many men and women seeking to make their fortunes. I am... kept informed of which ones are killers, and which ones are not. Which ones are selling lies, and which ones are actually selling things that can help."

"And Hannibal Chau is a good guy?" Mako couldn't believe that.

"Well..." Stacker rolled his head back and forth a bit. "He's the least bad." He thought a moment. "In fact, you might as well come along, since you met Hannibal."

Mako was about to say something, when Pentecost pulled a small torch out of his pocket and shone it. The light was strange, painted over with black. Mako didn't understand, until he shone it around, and found a small mark; which only showed under his black light torch.

Two icons, drawn in invisible ink. A precious stone, and a bird.

"Do you understand?" The Sensei tested her.

Mako looked at it a moment. "A jewel, and a bird. Sapphire Raven." She declared. "One of the MK-I's. I thought they were all wiped out."

"They were." Stacker told her. "But there are maybe four people in the Slum that could find the symbol by accident and know what it means."

* * *

They followed the symbols to the higher level of the Kaiju Skeleton. Usually, the higher you got, the more expensive and sought-after your place was. In the Boneslum, it meant your platform was in the most precarious spot. As the ribs curved, your foundation got weaker. Mako had heard rumors that the most expensive homes built since Trespasser were underground; private luxury homes built deeper than most fallout shelters.

Rope ladders and pulleys were the only way up once you got past the harvest level. Mako could see people with power tools below them, grinding the huge bones into powder for collection, or slicing out large segments in blocks.

The Platform they reached was large, but Mako walked on her toes instinctively. The thing felt like a treehouse. A single room made of wood planks, except this one was crammed together with a dozen others just like it, and rope bridges crossing to the other side, where there were a dozen more. Mako had never been this high before, without being in a helicopter.

Inside, she found it much like the outside. No bed, just a narrow hammock. No furniture, just shelves. The shelves had things from a hundred different sources. The stink of Kaiju was stronger here... and oddly, the floor was open. There were three sections of the floor that just hung over empty air... And the room had a dozen thick ropes hanging from the ceiling.

"Taylor?" Pentecost roared.

One of the ropes grew taut, and Mako jumped. A man climbed up the rope, wearing a harness. Mako made a point not to stare, but it was hard. His legs were missing, and his neck and face were scarred badly. He was wearing an eyepatch and a Breather.

"Who's she?" He asked Pentecost, and his voice was digitally scrawled. Mako checked, and found he had an implant against his ravaged throat, where his vocal chords used to be.

"Herb Taylor; this is Mako Mori." Stacker made introductions. "My daughter."

Mako straightened her shoulders automatically. People changed towards her when they found out the Sensei had adopted her.

But Taylor didn't even react. He looked at Mako, and she met his eyes for a moment. The sight of his missing limbs didn't make her gasp, but a look at his lone blue eye made her whimper. She felt a steadying hand on her shoulder, and she relaxed.

Taylor seemed barely aware of them as he made his way around his little room. He hooked another rope into his harness and pulled himself along the shelves, collecting plates, cups, ingredients... He was quite well practiced at it.

"Taylor." Stacker interrupted gently. "We're not here for tea."

Taylor froze, halfway through the process. "What?"

"I came to pay you." Stacker reminded him.

Taylor didn't turn. "For what?"

"For giving me information about Hannibal Chau."

Taylor turned. "Oh! That's right, I was going to tell you." He said, as though he'd just remembered. "Chau took over the Talon groups. And he did it without killing them. He's your best bet."

Stacker nodded, but didn't say anything.

Taylor sighed, his expression never changing. "And I told you that already, didn't I?"

"Days ago." Stacker nodded.

Taylor sighed. "In that case, would you like some tea?" He went back to his shelves, swinging back and forth like he was on a rope obstacle course.

"What's wrong with him?" Mako whispered.

Pentecost looked at Taylor with sympathy, but he didn't let it show on his face. "Rachnid hit him with a football stadium."

Mako winced, but got her face back under control quickly.

"Taylor!" Pentecost said again. "We can't stay for tea, I just wanted to pay you what you asked for."

"Oh, good." Taylor said. "What was that, again?"

Stacker pulled something out of his jacket. Mako recognized the micro Datacard as he flipped it over to Taylor like a coin. Taylor caught it and read the label. "Ooh. U2. This the live show out of Dublin?"

"No. The reunion tour for the Sydney rebuild."

"Ohh, good." It was hard to tell with such an artificial voice, but he seemed to have some emotion for once. "Luka was looking for this, right up to the last."

Stacker seemed sick to his stomach. "I can get you all sorts of things, Taylor. Things you need. You hate U2."

Taylor barely seemed to care. "What's your point?"

Stacker was about to answer, when his phone buzzed. He gave Taylor a quick nod of acknowledgement, and stepped outside to take it.

Taylor and Mako stared at each other in total silence for a moment. Mako couldn't look away from his gaze. It made her feel cold inside, but she couldn't pull away. It was the most unsettled she'd been since the last time she was this close to Onibaba.

Taylor took pity. "You may run away now."

"Thank you." Mako turned on her heel and ran outside to join her Sensei.

* * *

Pentecost seemed amused to see her. "Doctor Geiszler just called the Dome in a total panic. He seemed to think you would sit quietly and wait for him."

Mako smothered a grin. "Have you told him I'm with you?"

"Plenty of time for that after his execution." Pentecost told her lightly. "So. What do you think of Taylor?"

She didn't answer for a long time. "When my home was destroyed, I saw many bodies being taken away." Mako said quietly. "My friend at school? She was one of them. Her eyes were open when they loaded her into the truck. Her eyes were so... flat, like her eyes were made of glass, the way they give eyes to stuffed animals." She jerked her thumb back at the room. "There's nothing there, Sensei. His eye is empty."

Stacker nodded.

Mako lowered her voice. "Is he still alive?" She asked like she wasn't sure, and was scared to ask the question too loudly.

Stacker didn't answer. "Mako, the Dome also had a call from the hospital. The Doctors say that Tasmin is getting worse."

"We get that call once a month." Mako said, unconcerned. "She bounces back."

"I know, but-" Her Sensei hesitated.

"Excuse me." The man in the harness called from inside. "Tasmin? Would that be your better half, Pentecost?"

Stacker nodded bleakly as they both came inside. "Yeah. Yeah, it would."

Taylor reached out and hooked his way to a shelf. He pulled down a container, which looked like a hand lotion dispenser, and tossed it to Mako. "Give her that for me. On the house."

Mako glanced to Pentecost for permission, and her Sensei nodded. She took the jar and thanked the man, heading out.

Pentecost paused at the door. "You got everything you need?"

"Not even close." Taylor said without blinking. "Go away now. You make Luka nervous."

Pentecost tried again. "I meant it, Taylor. I can get you a better place, I can get you some help around here..."

Taylor gave him a look. "Now, what would a man, who has... EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD, do with a household staff?" He spun away from Stacker pointedly. "SHUT UP, LUKA! STOP TALKING WHEN YOU'RE NOT SAYING ANYTHING!"

Dead silence.

"GET OUT!" Taylor screamed. "JUST LEAVE US!"

Pentecost did so, as Taylor broke down, whispering. "Say something, Luka. Just say something. Please say something to me."

* * *

They didn't say anything until they reached ground level.

"Was he part of the Shatterdome, or just a civilian caught in the battle?" Mako asked. "Because if he was part of the Rachi fight, he would have been MK-1, and all the MK-1 riders are dead." She gave him a little sideways smile. "And I know you adopt people that the Kaiju make homeless."

Stacker hesitated. He wanted to tell her Taylor's story, but didn't want to lay it on her. "I'm more worried about Tasmin at the moment."

Mako nodded. "The doctors have called you in four times now."

Pentecost was about to respond, when there was a sudden alarm. The Alarms were screaming all over the Boneslum, and all over the city. Everyone quickly moved, in a state of controlled panic, locking up their possessions, shutting off their cooking sources...

"Kaiju Attack!" Pentecost and Mori shouted in the same breath. The alarms were automated. The instant the sensors around the Breach decided which way the new contact was moving, the alarm went out.

Stacker scooped Mako off the ground and started to run. Mako rode on his back lightly, with his arms hooked under her knees. If the Sensei hadn't been nimbly darting in and out of a crowd of panicked people, it would have looked like a piggyback ride. He was clearing over stalls and around pathways like a gazelle, and Mako had her head above the crowd, warning him which areas were gridlocked with people. Pentecost's phone was buzzing, but he didn't have a hand free to answer it.

Within a few minutes, they made it out of the Boneslum and made it back to the helicopter.

"Marshall, there's an alert on!" The pilot called, holding up his radio.

"Really?" Pentecost called over the siren as it howled.

* * *

"Get us to the Dome!" Pentecost ordered once they were in the air.

"There's no time!" Mako pointed out to the left. A Kaiju was already visible on the Horizon.

The city saw it too. The screaming was almost audible from the helicopter.

Mako stared. She had kept out of the Command Centre during the Breach Events. The whole Dome knew and accepted The Marshall's Daughter, but there were rules that everyone followed once the battle began.

"Too early." Stacker hissed. "Too early!"

Mako knew what he meant. The Kaiju came on a fairly regular schedule, plus or minus two weeks. This Kaiju was a month early. But Mako didn't care. She hadn't seen one live since she was ten years old.

And this one was the biggest, nastiest creature Mako had ever seen, alive or dead. It was coming toward the city, and fast. It had long spindly arms; which looked almost fragile against its bulk. But at its narrowest; the six spindly arms were still at least thirty meters across.

Each of the six limbs had spikes on the shoulders, the elbows and the wrists; with a wide back, armored with a heavy bone plate and dozens of sharp horns. It's stomach was covered in scales that fell over each other like chain mail. Its triangular head was big enough to swallow a house whole and shred it between four rows of razor teeth.

It moved faster than Mako could believe, powering through the ocean on it's six legs; charging toward the city, as if to avenge the Boneslum.

Standing firm between them, hundreds of meters out, Three Jaegers were being choppered into position.

Diablo Intercept, Geneva Hawk and Green Destiny were being carried into the harbor; ready to do battle. Mako barely registered them at first, her glare on the Kaiju so intense she was sure it knew she was there.

"Sir!" The pilot called. "I got the Dome on the line!"

Stacker took the radio and keyed the mike. "This is Pentecost. I have a visual where I am; I'll work from here! Where are we on pre-flight?" He listened to whatever his people were telling him. "Look, I can't make it to the Dome; the Contact is coming in way too fast! I'll have to carry the ball from here!"

The helicopters released their cargo. Three super-war machines dropped to the ocean and hit the seabed running. The Kaiju saw them and was almost eager to meet them; letting out a roar so loud that it caused turbulence for their helicopter.

Mako noticed other helicopters. News choppers fighting for position.

"Patch me through." Pentecost ordered, and waited for the connection. "Pilots, Codename Killaton made it past the Miracle Mile before we could deploy. Take that as the hint. This thing is fast. I'd rather keep this in the harbor. Geneva Hawk, and Diablo Intercept; stay on the harbor. Keep it away from the city. Green Destiny: Break and ATTACK!"

Green Destiny charged like a linebacker. It took a flying leap in, fired its boosters and made a flying kick. It slammed Killaton across the jaw...

And the Kaiju's head spun around 360 degrees, coming back to the same angle; where it chomped down hard on Green Destiny's arm, sinking in the rows of teeth.

Green Destiny drew back a fist for another attack... and missed completely. Killaton was faster than anything they'd ever seen. It caught Green Destiny's free fist in two of it's clawed hands, and dug in the other four, bouncing off the ground enough to get all four sets of claws dug in.

Mako let out a shout. Before any of the three Jaegers could react, Green Destiny had its entire front half torn clean off. The two halves of the Jaeger fell in opposite directions.

"Dispatch the rescue choppers!" Pentecost roared. "Diablo Intercept, open fire!"

Diablo Intercept's chest opened, revealing the rows of missile launchers. Over a dozen guided missiles hammered out and slammed down, missing the Kaiju as it pivoted nimbly on one of it's legs, spinning clear of the fire like a ballet dancer the size of a skyscraper.

Geneva Hawk charged forward. The enormous buzzsaws on its wrists spun up to full speed; and the machine struck, slashing the buzzsaws like a pair of switchblades; hacking out jagged slices of flesh.

Mako watched, unable to blink, unable to look away. Jaeger combat was vicious. It was faster than she thought it would be; but no less based on power. There was enough pure violence to uproot forests. Geneva Hawk wasn't punching or kicking, it was hitting with spinning razor blades, trying to dismember the monster.

Mako grinned, delighted to see the bright sprays of blue and green blood. Strapped into her seat, she had her fists up, miming punches and ducks as the Jaeger moved.

Killaton had one of it's arms ripped out, but had five more to keep up the fight. Kaiju weren't stupid brutes. It knew the danger of the buzzsaws now, and gripped lower, catching it in the wrist. Another claw flashed up to do the same, and broke the buzzsaw clean off.

"Diablo Intercept! Get in there now!" Stacker yelled.

Too late.

In the same move, five sets of enormous claws dug into Geneva Hawke. Two at the head, two at the turbine, one at the neck. They all pulled at once, and huge cracks formed, spiderwebbing the armored hide.

Sparks and oil and flame gushed from the cracks in the bleeding body of Geneva Hawk, which slapped weakly at the Kaiju, before going flat limp.

"System failure!" Mako yelled. "Get them out!"

Too late. As Diablo Intercept slammed the Kaiju from behind, Killaton had torn its head off and crushed it between its claws. It fought to turn around, but Diablo Intercept had positioning, bending the Kaiju back against it's own spine. Killaton tried to reach between it's own shoulder blades; and failed. It's head rotated on its shoulders and tried to take a bite out of Diablo Intercept's face.

Diablo Intercept headbutted the Kaiju and sank its huge hands into the creature's arms, snapping them. Killaton shrieked, a sound so loud it rattled the air.

"Vent your exhaust!" Stacker ordered.

Diablo intercept obeyed, opening the turbine. The nuclear heat was enough to scorch the huge armored plate on the creature's back. Not enough to burn through, but enough to crackle the bone. Diablo Intercept brought its foot down hard on the Kaiju's lower legs, breaking them too. As Killaton fell forward awkwardly, Diablo Intercept struck, ripping at the charred armored horns until it worked it's way through, clutching at the huge spine with both hands, for the fatal blow.

It was a victory, and the city had been spared; but none of them in the helicopters were smiling.

* * *

"Two Jaegers in less than three minutes." Pentecost growled. "Whatever Killaton was, it was something new. But the real question, is why the Jaegers weren't deployed until it already reached the harbor?""

The pilots said nothing, but they agreed. The rescue choppers had been at the site of battle before Diablo Intercept was done, but there were no survivors.

"How many pilots could we save if we had a Jaeger with an ejector seat?" Mako mumbled to herself; but her eyes were on the Jaeger Bay. A row of immortal Steel Samurai... With two empty places.

"Sir, it took five minutes to get confirmation." A young tech named Tendo was trying to tell him. "The second watch was monitoring, because nobody thought it would happen for another month; and nobody had seen a contact move so fast; so they assumed it was a false positive."

"In fact, sir; there was only one technician on duty who insisted we launch before we get it confirmed." Someone said. "And as much as I'd like to say it was me; it was Tendo Choi."

"So, just to sum up; we lost two of our best pilot teams in less than four minutes; after getting caught with our shorts down; because we all thought it would be another three weeks?" Pentecost concluded. "Someone explain to me why you didn't ALL want to launch right away?"

"Sir, the directive from the UN-"

"Money?" Pentecost growled. "_This_ is what you're telling me? Yes, it costs two million dollars to launch a Jaeger. You know what it costs to rebuild a city? Or a pair of Jaegers, come to that? If we weren't so damn close to landfall; all three could have engaged at once; and we would have ended this. What did those four pilots cost?"

Dead silence.

"First priority is cleanup of the harbor." Pentecost growled, getting back to work. "Bring the Jaegers back to the Dome, and drag the Kaiju out to sea before the black marketeers figure out how to swim. Civilian and commercial traffic will remain outside the port, as will the dockside workers. We had to open up the nuclear exhaust, I want fallout readings checked, and rechecked all over that bay before we let cleanup through, and then check it all over again. And someone get a ride together for Mako."

Mako looked up in surprise. "Where am I going?" She demanded. "I can help you."

"You _are_ helping me." Her Sensei told her. "I need you to check on Tasmin. The Doctors told us to get there fast, and I want the reason why to stay in the family."

* * *

Stacker had Tasmin moved to Asia, so that he could be close to her. Her condition had deteriorated pretty rapidly. So fast that Mako was half certain that it was just a bad patch, and that Tasmin would be back at the Dome soon.

Even though she knew better.

When she came into the private room and saw Tasmin, Mako actually froze at the door. The woman she knew, who always looked lean and deadly, was now a barely moving skeleton. Her hair had fallen out, she had lesions on her skin...

"Don't stare." Tasmin said without self-pity. "When _you_ hit thirty-seven, little kids will find you hideous too."

Mako shook it off and came over. "I'm from Japan, lady. More nukes used on us than anyone, even before the War started. You think you've got anything I haven't seen before?"

No inch of pity given, none offered. Mako felt instantly at ease, and so did Tasmin.

"So, how bad was it?" Tasmin croaked.

Mako sat down. She had long been Stacker and Tasmin's spy. Nobody bothered to watch their words around a child. "Two Jaegers down. Stacker's bringing some from Russia to make up the numbers. Doctor Newt is getting worried that the attacks are coming faster."

"Are they?"

"Yup." Mako nodded. "But that's not the problem."

"No, the problem is that whatever the Kaiju are, they've finally thrown something at us that can kill two Jaeger at once." Tasmin nodded. "I saw it on the news. That new Contact was something new. It took two Machines down in less than four minutes."

Mako glanced back at the door to make sure they had privacy. "The Brain Trust is racing to think up reasons for it."

"The Kaiju are evolving." Tasmin coughed.

Mako nodded, unconcerned. "So are we."

Tasmin sighed. "We never knew..." She broke down coughing for a while. "We never knew, how this was gonna end. The Kaiju War is a series of battles fought few and far between, kiddo. But time's gonna come when the stalemate breaks. I'm sorry I had to leave it for you."

"Who would you rather leave it for?" Mako said softly.

"And don't pretend that you're not secretly pleased about it."

"Pleased?!" Mako hissed. "Are you crazy?"

"Well, not pleased; but I think if the War ended before you got a chance to fight it; you'd set The Dome on fire." Tasmin retorted. "The Kaiju are getting tougher, and I think you want them at their hardest when you start bitch-slapping them all the way back to the Breach."

Mako was silent a moment. "You know him better than me. Was he lying when he said my time would come?"

Tasmin still hadn't moved, beyond tilting her head. "Stacker's got a strong sense of justice, my dear. He'll hate to send you into it, but a promise is a promise." She coughed, her rail-thin body lurching. "And I don't know him better than you; I know him better than _anyone_."

Mako smiled. That much was true. "I remember once, I saw you cut your thumb on something. Papercut." Mako said softly. "Sensei was in the next room, but he had come in with a band-aid the second you did it, before you could even ask where he kept them."

Tasmin nodded.

"I remember, the two of you made dinner. You were passing the pans back and forth, handing each other things without asking for them. You were doing it so fast, without a word between you. It was amazing to see."

Tasmin nodded again. "Ask your question."

Mako struggled to word it."Who will my partner be?'

"Dunno." Tasmin coughed. "Ask yourself, Mako." She said finally. "Ask yourself, why always siblings? Close family bonds... Why only one married couple? It has nothing to do with fraternization regs. Why?"

"Because..." Mako floundered. "Because you need someone who thinks the same as you do. The same thoughts, the same way of thinking."

"Before the war, when I was married?" Tasmin coughed. "I hid all my guilty secrets, and kept them hidden. Then we got closer and he started discovering them, and then we got married and he discovered a few more. The ones I wouldn't even tell my husband? He knew not to ask. And I didn't ask about his either. And then the war came, and he died. Stacker and I Drifted... and just like that he had everything, and I had everything about him. Things I wouldn't even tell my husband. Imagine finding someone who would get that close. Then imagine having them break your heart."

"There can be good things, too." Mako offered.

"Not when they're suddenly gone." Tasmin coughed. "Don't believe me? Ask your father next week."

Mako looked down. "I don't have any family left." She confessed. "And I'm... young. I'm told that I have to be more... grown up, before I find someone that _right_ for me."

"That's true. People change fast at your age. Who could know the way you think so perfectly, when you haven't figured it out yourself yet?"

Mako looked up. "Can you actually hear Sensei think?"

Tasmin sighed. "It's called the Drift Hangover. When you Drift with someone? Their neural paths get put into your brain. They share the load that way; but when the Drift is over, you have each other's neurons in your brain. Stacker's way of thinking is _literally_ wired into my head. It's like hearing him in my head, but it's not like I have him on the phone. I just know what he would think, no matter what happens."

Mako shrank a bit in relief. "I remember you during training, taking it so hard on me. You were trying to break me, so that I wouldn't keep going. Then today, Sensei took me to see Herb Taylor, and then sent me here to you. If you're trying to talk me out of it, you know it won't work."

"Kid, you're the smartest dumb person I know." Tasmin rasped without sympathy. "Stacker didn't send you here to see the horror show or to babysit me." She licked her dry lips. "He sent you here because with Geneva Hawk and Green Destiny destroyed, he doesn't dare leave the Dome for a false alarm. He sent you here because he wants to know if the doctors are being cautious again, or if I'm really circling the drain this time."

Mako made her face go fierce. "You're not going anywhere."

Tasmin tried to smirk. "Strong, you are with the Force; young Mako. But not that strong."

Mako blinked. "Huh?"

Tasmin's face twisted. "Aw, Hell; watch a movie, will you? Read a book or something? Two years now, and _still_ my best puns have been wasted on you."

"Yes Ma'am." Mako promised instantly, and reached into her bag. "This is for you."

Tasmin tried, but she couldn't lift her arms. "Help?"

Mako felt cold all over, but she brought the bottle closer.

"Taylor's stuff?" Tasmin croaked. "He makes Kaiju-based remedies now. What's he got for me?"

Mako squirted the dispenser into her hand, and wrinkled her nose at the smell. "I have no idea."

Tasmin sniffed. "I do. Bring that over. Rub it on my wrists?"

Mako did so. Tasmin sighed, and Mako could hear the machines change the pitch of their beeping. She froze, terrified.

"Don't stop." Tasmin told her. "Radiation scarring. Joint pain is a killer; and that stuff is Kaiju synaptic fluid." She smirked. "With lavender scented skin cream. Good for joints."

Mako screwed up her face. She had Kaiju goop on her hands. She had the otherworldly crap on her. There was Kaiju filth seeping under her nails. _Hell, it's probably from Onibaba._ "How did Taylor know?"

"Because he's been there." Tasmin nodded. "They didn't tell you? Taylor used to be a Jaeger Jockey."

Mako froze. "Really?" She replayed the conversation in her head. "Herb and Luka Taylor. Sapphire Raven. Rachnid hit them with a football stadium."

"We kept it off TV, but one of the pilots survived."

Mako blinked. "Why keep it secret?"

Tasmin just looked at her. "You did _meet_ the man, didn't you?"

Mako looked down.

Tasmin bared her teeth. She was missing a few. "Getting the picture yet, babe? One in ten thousand applicants qualify for work at the Pan-Pacific Defense Corp. One in ten thousand of those qualify as a pilot, and the odds of finding a Drift Compatible partner are like winning two lotteries." She jerked her chin down at herself. "And me and Taylor are what's left of the ones that actually made it." She gave Mako a hard look. "You sure you want this to be your future, kiddo?"

Mako didn't even blink. "Yup."

Tasmin rolled her eyes. "How did I know you'd say that?" She coughed again. "Mako, you better call your father."

Mako felt cold and hot inside. "Really?"

Tasmin nodded. "It's time I said goodbye."

Mako made the call with trembling hands. Stacker commandeered a jet and was on his way quickly. Mako returned to Tasmin's side. "He's on his way." She wavered. Until that moment, she didn't really believe that it was happening; but Tasmin wouldn't make Stacker come back too often. Saying goodbye today meant...

Tasmin nodded. "Hit the remote, I should sit up a bit."

Mako fetched the remote, and had her hospital bed recline a bit. "Okay." Tasmin croaked. "I should be giving you deep life wisdom right now." She thought for a moment. "Okay. You're too young to be worried about boys, but remember this: Don't make a fuss about putting the seat down. They don't complain about having to lift it."

Mako was crying. "Okay."

"And any guy worth keeping will pick a fight with Stacker. Stacker will murder any guy who likes you; because it's his duty. But the ones willing to take him on, guns blazing, are the ones you stick with."

Mako nodded.

"Um... Don't talk to Stacker about girl stuff. Enough of your life is spent in a Shatterdome, which is a Temple of Testosterone, no matter how many women become Jaeger Pilots. You're a tomboy, but find yourself a girlfriend to talk to, and anything you don't tell Stacker, you go to her."

Mako nodded. "Yes Ma'am."

"Let's see, what else... Don't ever rely on a gadget to do something you don't know how to do yourself. With the exception of taking a punch from a Kaiju, that goes for all the readouts and HUDs in a Steel Samurai. Calculators, GPS, translation apps... Those machines are there to make you faster, not to make you stupid and dependant on stuff that can break down."

Mako sniffed. "Yes Ma'am."

"And never order stew that you don't cook yourself." Tasmin coughed. "Too easy to pretend pigeons and mice are chickens when you've got it cooking that long."

Mako wanted to smile. Tasmin was trying to make her laugh.

"Life is hard." Tasmin said seriously. "Too hard and too short to tolerate idiots; but pick your moments, because the guy you kick in the face today might be your boss tomorrow. That sounds ridiculous, but trust me, it happens more often than you think."

Mako nodded, wiping her eyes.

"It _is_ easier to ask forgiveness than permission." Tasmin croaked. "But harder to get either the next time."

Mako was struggling not to cry.

"And try to remember how I looked _before_ today. Because I don't want you to think of THIS every time you think of me."

"I promise." Mako said instantly.

"And I'll never see you grow up." Tasmin croaked. "Which is fine with me. When you become a teenager, you'll be getting things pierced and dying your hair blue... But I always wanna think of that hard-as-nails little ten year old firecracker that made Combat Pilots cry for their mommies."

Mako smiled. "I loved doing it."

Tasmin cackled, breaking down coughing again, groaning in agony.

Mako held up the dispenser. "More?"

Tasmin closed her eyes. "More."

* * *

Stacker arrived a few hours later. He came into the room, and Mako sat at attention automatically.

"You bring flowers?" Tasmin croaked.

"Chocolates." Stacker nodded. "I already gave them to the nursing staff."

"Seriously? First time in my life I'm underweight, and you_ give away_ my chocolates?" Tasmin groused, but her tone was fairly light. "Thank Herb for the joint cream."

"I will." Stacker nodded. "Mako, would you give us a minute?"

Mako nodded and put a kiss on Tasmin's forehead. The older woman held her close for a moment longer, to whisper in her ear. "He'll be strong through this, but he'll be hard." She hissed. "Once I go, I'll take the part of him that is softer with us. But not the part that loves you. He'll never lose that."

Mako whispered back. "I know."

Tasmin still held on. "You _will_ get your chance, my dearest love." She whispered. "And you'll find me. I promise, you'll always find me in the Drift."

Tasmin released her then. Mako slipped out, but peeked in the door. The two of them were close to each other, eyes closed, breathing in when the other breathed out. They were in sync; and just for a second, Mako actually felt scared for Stacker. She had seen the two of them together. When they were having a conversation, nobody could follow them, except each other. When one needed something, the other was already holding it out.

They weren't half a person each; they were the same person.

Mako felt tears gathering again, and she wiped them away quickly. That one soul in two bodies was her family. More than that, they were the family she had adopted. She knew that legally, Stacker had adopted her, but she still felt like _she_ had chosen _them_ to be her guardians.

And she was about to lose them too. Stacker would live, and be as solid as a Jaeger just by being in the room; but losing Tasmin would carve half of him away.

Just as losing her family had carved away half of her.

She loved them so much.

_Add it to the list. _She told herself. _Another name to carve into the Kaiju's cold dead hide._

Somehow it wasn't helping as much this time.

Their expressions were changing, shifting as though they were having a conversation, but they weren't speaking. At least, not in any way Mako could see. Their 'conversation' continued for several minutes.

She loved them both _so much_.

* * *

Geiszler had been in a total panic. Tokyo City was freaking out from the near miss, and everyone was scrambling. A whole city was trying to move at once, and there were plenty of people separated.

When they had returned to the Tokyo Dome, Geiszler was in his lab, spending half his time trying to explain the sudden change in the Kaiju attacker, and the other half manning three different phones, searching through all the city's lost children. Plenty of kids had been parted from their parents in the chaos; and Geiszler was trying to communicate to four different shelters and three different Tokyo police departments that he was trying to find a lost Asian girl. He was one voice among thousands, searching for one kid among thousands, and he didn't speak Japanese, so he wasn't having much luck.

Stacker cleared his throat; and the terrified genius spun around. "Marshal!" His eyes focused suddenly, noting Mako was at attention beside him. "Um... you're probably thinking there's a really good reason for that."

"No, I don't." Stacker said immediately, anti-life on his face. "But if you've managed to invent one, I'd be glad to hear it."

Geiszler had nothing.

Pentecost suddenly looked ancient. He put a hand to his nose briefly. "Doctor, your massive screw-up would ordinarily be enough to have me remove a few of your internal organs in alphabetical order. But through no fault of your own, I simply don't have the energy to deal with you right now." He glanced down. "Mako, go back to our room."

Mako obeyed, sending Geiszler a hard look. "We had a deal." She hissed at him.

Geiszler glanced to Pentecost in panic again, but Pentecost was already at the television. The talking heads were dissecting the battle, saying all the empty words they said when a Kaiju attack was put down. "Talk to me about Killaton."

Mako kept moving. It was the first Category 2 Kaiju they had seen. It wouldn't be the last.

* * *

They never returned to the hospital. Tasmin died a few hours later.

* * *

Mako couldn't sleep. She got up and padded her way to the door, sending a quick look at Pentecost's room. The Sensei had not returned to their quarters, which was not uncommon. He worked through the night often.

Mako padded her way to the laboratory. Geiszler worked through the night too.

He looked up when he saw her. "Hey." He commented. "You got me in trouble, you know."

Mako nodded. "I know. I... I'm sorry."

"You say that, but I think it happened exactly the way you planned it." Geiszler shot back, and made his way over to one of his pieces of equipment. A hospital bed with a large metal ring over the head of it. "All right, come on."

Mako came over and he hoisted her up. She wriggled a bit, until she was lying back on the bed, staring up at the metal ring that circled her head. Geiszler was doing something at a computer, and the ring lit up, rolling back and forth in front of her eyes. "All right, Kid. I'm going to be doing some pretty careful mapping of your retinas, so you'll have to keep your eyes open and your head still."

Mako obeyed. "How did the tattoo turn out?"

Geiszler sighed. "He only got half of it done by the time Killaton attacked. Your dad said he'd fill in the rest with a ballpoint pen if I ever tried to babysit you again."

Mako smirked. Then she remembered Tasmin and the smirk vanished.

Geiszler had apparently heard. "I was sorry to hear about your mom."

Mako answered reflexively. "Which one?"

Geiszler winced. "I meant Marshall Tasmin."

"I had a family." Mako said harshly. "Onibaba killed them. Then I had Tasmin and Onibaba killed her too; it just took longer. Now I have Sensei, and a mission."

Geiszler was tapping at his computer again. "Kid, I have three loves in my life. Monster movies, my work, and hot pockets. I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're going through; but my teachers told me once that out-living your enemies is the best revenge. Onibaba killed people you love; but you had lunch in a building made out of Onibaba's cold dead skull today."

Mako snorted. The idea was frankly ridiculous.

"You can sit up."

Mako did so. "Well?"

Geiszler turned the computer screen around. The result was plainly obvious. **Capability**: _Positive_.

Mako smirked. As far as she was concerned; her last obstacle had been removed. She was on the path now. "Thank you."

She moved to get back to the floor, when he stopped her. "You ever pull an end-run like that on me again, I'll tell your father the test came back the other way."

Mako glared right back. "I can just get another test."

Geiszler gave her a pitying look. "You think I wouldn't find a way around that? Smart guy like me?"

Mako considered the options and nodded graciously. "I understand."

Geiszler didn't break her gaze. "And I am very sorry for your loss."

She could tell he meant both statements equally. "Thank you."

Detente. Having achieved a truce, the two shook hands like professionals and parted without another word.

* * *

She found Pentecost in the gym, on the Dojo mats. He was covered in sweat as he spun his staff around; following the forms of three different combat styles. "Can't sleep?"

Mako shook her head, and went to the heavy bag. She knew how to throw a punch without hurting herself; and found it was a way to wear herself out, and switch off bad thoughts.

But this time it wasn't working. Onibaba was a frequent mental image when she worked the bag. She often pretended her fist was made of Jaeger steel and the punching bag was Onibaba... But this time it didn't help.

All she saw was Tasmin.

She punched harder.

There was something building inside Mako as she wailed away on the punching bag. It felt like she was about to scream, or break down sobbing, or both. The emotion was bubbling up and she forced it down, teeth bared, as she struck out, again and again.

The sound of wood on concrete rang out as Stacker made a heavy strike, slamming his staff down hard. He was clearly having the same problem.

_Sensei has lost a partner. _Mako thought in panic. _Is he going to become like Taylor?_

The sudden realization filled her with alarm, and she forgot all about her workout. Before Pentecost could rise back to full height, Mako had thrown herself across the room to his side, and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. He froze for a moment, surprised by the unexpected hug attack; before he let go of his staff and returned it.

"Why does it feel this way?" Mako asked him, still wiping tears before they could form. "Why is this worse?"

Stacker pulled back enough to meet her gaze head on. "Because, when you lost your family; you hid behind your rage. You turned to us because you saw us as bulletproof. We didn't bend, we hit back."

"Steel Samurai." Mako whispered.

Stacker nodded. "But we aren't bulletproof, Mako. We bleed, and we die, and we mourn." He gave her a pointed look. "Collect your staff."

There were a dozen bo staff's in various sizes lined along the edge of the mats. Including one three feet shorter than all the others. Mako was the only fourteen year old on the base; so she needed her own, custom sized. She picked it up and moved into the routine, almost in step with her Sensei.

But it was harder this time. Harder than the punching bag. Her movements were choppy.

"I first met Tasmin in training." Pentecost said softly. "I lost my sister soon after. Tasmin was the one that taught me how to let it go."

"Let what go?" Mako hissed, trying to focus. "Don't pretend you're not still angry."

"I am, but Tasmin taught me how to to keep that from controlling me."

"She taught _me_ how to fight." Mako bit out.

"This style of combat?" Pentecost told her. "It relies on proficiency in skill, and in control. If your skill is lacking, the routine makes it clear. If your control is lacking, the routine makes it _very_ clear. To be a Jaeger Jockey, you need both skill and control."

Mako fought for control. Her movements should be smooth and natural; like watching a professional dancer. But she was shifting on her feet, constantly trying to stay in the right place.

"And if you wanna drive a Jaeger, you need to _feel_ more deeply and more openly than most people do."

Mako felt the emotion building again. "What?"

Stacker showed nothing but sympathy for her on his face. "We take nothing into the Drift but what we have in ourselves. But we take _all_ of it. You open completely to your co-pilot. If you take wrath into the Drift, then you inflict it on your partner. Anything you can't let go, neither will they. You can't pretend bad things aren't there."

Mako said nothing.

"Mako, sadness fades with time. Anger has to be released." He made the point. "Have you let yourself feel anything but anger since your mom and dad died?"

It had been building since she was ten years old, and she'd never let it reach her. Every time she felt it bubbling up, she clenched her fists a little harder, punched the bag a little harder...

"It's the only way to handle it, Mako." Pentecost told her. "You can't fight it back forever, or you'll drown." Pentecost went into his routine again, his face becoming still as his body moved without a single wasted movement. "Tranquillity. The emotion doesn't leave you, it passes through you, until only you remain."

Mako struggled to match his motions, but she was struggling. And in truth, she was fighting herself more than she let on. Her vision was blurring, her breath was catching... He was right. The emotion hadn't gone away. It had grown bigger somehow while she wasn't looking. And then Tasmin had died, and suddenly it was coming at her like a tidal wave.

And now the Sensei was telling her to dive into it.

Mako lost her rhythm as her eyes blurred with tears unshed, and she dropped her staff.

In the same instant, Stacker caught the staff, dead centre, with the end of his own, and flipped it back into her hands. She caught it clumsily, clutching it to her chest.

Silence.

Mako felt the tears coming...

...and ran out of the dojo, forcing them back down.

* * *

She pretended to be asleep when he came back to their quarters. He wasn't fooled.

He sat on the edge of her cot, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She was coiled tightly in on herself. She didn't even have a teddy bear any more.

"You are fourteen years old. You've had a lot of loss." He said softly. "Almost three hundred million people have died in this war, and we're still learning the rules. That's a whole lot of loss yet to come. You've had to go through it twice, and you've picked the front lines as your home. If you can't let it out, then it stays in you; and you can't live that way forever."

Mako said nothing.

Pentecost sighed. "Good night, daughter." He said in Japanese, and went back to his bed.

She heard him shift as he tried to sleep. She was coiled in so tight that her body hurt. Tasmin would have said that proved it. Staying coiled in so tightly was causing her pain.

_You'll always find me in the Drift. _Tasmin had told her.

Except Stacker had lost his partner. he had retired from combat. He would never Drift again. Mako didn't know what that meant, but she aimed to Drift one day. Stacker had lost her forever.

She made herself unclench, and she slipped off the cot. She padded over to her father and stood at the head of his bed. He shifted over and made room for her. He didn't reach, and neither did she.

They pretended to sleep then, father and daughter in mourning.

* * *

**AN**: _Read and Review_


	3. 20 - 0

When Mako Mori was sixteen, she started using the simulator.

They had moved again. Another Jaeger Base, this one in Canada. Pentecost brought some of his team along; including her. Unlike the others, she wore no uniform; just the jumpsuit. Unlike the rest of the team, she was at home in the cold. Canada's winter was no worse than Japan's.

Stacker had taken her to the observation port. Outside, she saw a crowd gathered at the loading doors. They were waving signs and shouting something, but Mako couldn't hear them from where she was. At the fenceline, a row of soldiers stood guard with rifles, staring down a crowd that outnumbered them a hundred to one.

Pentecost lifted his radio. "The roads still aren't safe, you'll have to chopper them in." He ordered, and put his radio away.

"They've gotten closer since yesterday." She observed the protestors quietly.

"No. Not closer." Pentecost promised her. "There are just more of them."

"Why are they protesting here?" Mako wondered. "We didn't cut them off."

"You and I know that, but we eat fine tonight, and these people are fighting in the markets over the last bar of soap, the last bottled water, the last tank of gas, the last... everything." He said, with something like sympathy in his voice. "They aren't angry; they're scared. Hunger is... a terrible thing to face."

Mako hadn't faced civilian-level rationing in more than six years, and as tight as things were when she was a girl, it had only gotten worse. Following Stacker around had promised her three square meals a day. Something that nobody else could promise.

But the sympathy in his voice almost took her by surprise. He'd changed with the death of Tasmin. He was... tempered, like her father's swords, once everything else had been smelted away. Not angry, just hard. He seemed smaller somehow; but not in any way she could see. He was smaller inside.

Mako and Tasmin had private jokes and little secrets; as all family did. Pentecost had always smiled when he heard one. Now he did not. He had always played music when he wanted to relax. Now he didn't even _have_ music in his room any more. His interests had narrowed. Things that had once interested him or mattered to him was now less than worthless in his eyes. Things that set him off were hard to predict, and the light in his eyes had dimmed.

It was like he'd gotten smarter and faster and stronger, but he'd forgotten half the things he knew.

But his tactical skill was at its peak. His standards were more exacting, without being cruel, because he held himself to a much higher standard than anyone under his command. Half the people who worked for him were oddly convinced he could carry the whole Dome on his back.

Mako was at attention beside Stacker as always, when she noticed the helicopter in the distance. She kept her eyes on it until it landed, and people got out, coming in from the heliport. "Is that Herc Hansen?" She asked quietly.

"It is." Pentecost confirmed. "His son is training here, and he's slated to be put in command of The Australasian Shatterdome, so he's... auditing."

"Auditing what?" Mako asked.

"Personnel. A Marshal gets to choose a lot of his Command Staff and his Response Teams."

Mako couldn't help the way she spun toward him, almost like a hopeful puppy.

"No." Stacker told her firmly.

Mako deflated.

Pentecost gave her a look. "Mako, you're sixteen. You can't even join the Academy yet, let alone a Command Team."

"I don't want Command, I want Combat." Mako said sullenly. "I hate that I have to wait two more years. You know I'm ready now."

She turned away from her Sensei and noticed a few recruits peeking at her out of the corner of their eyes. Mako realized she was still plastered up close to her Sensei, looking up pleadingly. She was acting like Stacker's daughter, the way she had always acted, but nobody here knew about their connection. She was a young Asian girl, and he was a much older black man. She had learned the western way on personal space and decorum, and knew why the recruits were whispering to each other.

* * *

At first, Mako didn't understand why people made such a fuss over her sleeping in Pentecost's quarters when she came of age. All five members of her own family, though it was getting hard to remember them, all slept in one room. They had to. It wasn't uncommon for three or four families to sleep in one house; even before Hammerdown had destroyed two thirds of the housing district. Closeness was a fact of existence.

Her adopted parent understood this facet of Japanese life, but was still a westerner, and a figure of authority. In the interests of propriety, Mako was given her own Quarters when they reached the new base.

She hated it. She didn't recognize any of the sounds at night, like she did in the base she knew. She hadn't felt so alone since hiding behind a dumpster.

She put all her fear and loneliness into her training. Her training schedule brought her into contact with some of the Cadets. Canada was the first Dome Mako had lived in that trained new recruits. After basic, the PPDC Cadets were placed in Shatterdomes. There were very few places you could learn how a Jaeger worked. Mako had seen all their files; and knew the majority of them wouldn't see combat; but they were all determined to be one of the special chosen few. It made these... _kids_, so damn cocky. Mako was two or three years younger than all of them, but she still thought of them as kids. The way their eyes lit up when they saw how good the food was, the way they couldn't stop peeking at the Jaegers...

They were cocky as combat veterans, and green as kindergarten drop-outs; and they had a chance that Mako would have killed for. She wasn't sure if she admired them or despised them; but it was definitely one or the other.

She pretended not to hear the whispers. Most of the local staff and pilots had no idea that she was the Marshal's adopted Daughter, but his team deferred to her, and she had anything she asked Pentecost for; save a Jaeger of her own. The rumors that Mako was Pentecost's mistress spread quickly. Other rumors countered that she was his personal student, trained from birth for the Jaeger Program.

Mako had no patience for rumors. Her mother had taught her that words were just air, and the important things were always in what never got said. In Japan, discretion was as important as breathing. With so many people, there was no such thing as privacy, so their walls existed in their minds and hearts.

She was already feeling tense and off balance, when one of the hotshots whispered something, deliberately being loud enough for her to overhear; and she had to respond. "So." The cadet asked some of his classmates. "You think the Old Man got the secret tunnel to her room finished yet?"

Mako rose smoothly from her seat and stepped up to him. "Hello. I'm new here." She said politely. "Can you show me where the dojo is?"

She knew, of course; but the cadet was only too happy to show off.

* * *

He led her to the dojo, where half a dozen teams were sparring; honing their Drift Scores. Mako came in and selected a bo staff. "Would you spar with me, please?" She asked the moron sweetly. "I need something to keep me busy while that tunnel is being dug."

She had him on the mat in two moves. He got up for round two, and she had him down in one move. He was cautious the third time, and lasted three moves. By now the others were watching, and the moron was giving her a hooded look. He knew he was going to lose this one, and was just trying not to have it be humiliating.

Letting him stay on his feet a few more minutes would have been a mercy.

Mako was not a particularly merciful person.

The moron was flat on his face again, and Mako tapped his cheek lightly, slapping him awake with her staff. "By the way, my _name_ is Mako Mori."

"Chuck Hansen." The idiot groaned, returning the introduction automatically.

Mako didn't react, but inside she suddenly felt a bolt of panic. Herc Hansen was here, auditing a staff for his new command in Australia, and she had just made his son look like an amateur...

A slow clap rang out.

Mako spun, caught with the cookie jar again. Pentecost was in the doorway. Herc Hansen was with him, trying hard not to smirk. "Miss Mori." Pentecost said calmly. "This area is for recruits to the Jaeger program. You're not on the list."

"Yes sir." Mako said sullenly. She had been in one dojo or another a hundred times, and he wouldn't care if she came back ten minutes after he left; but he had to bring the 'demonstration' to a close, and dismissing her was the fastest way.

Her eyes flicked to Herc Hansen as returned her staff to the rack. Chuck had rolled to his feet, and was stepping over to have words with his father.

"Feeling stupid?" Herc asked his son.

"More sore than stupid." Chuck admitted quietly. "She's fast."

"She was trained by the best." Herc said simply, gesturing at Pentecost.

Mako said nothing to them as she slid past them at the doorway and left, but she could feel Chuck's eyes all over her. "She's cute, too."

"She's underage, she's the Marshal's top prodigy, and she's apparently quite capable of beating you up at will." His father said smartly. "Still think she's cute?"

"Nosir." Chuck got the point at once. "But I think she likes me."

Mako pretended she hadn't heard them as she headed for the elevator, but she could hear them both smiling. She didn't let the relief show on her face until the elevator doors closed.

* * *

Chuck Hansen had received plenty of ribbing from his classmates. Mako noticed one or two of them watching her. She decided she felt an affinity for them. They were here to pilot Jaegers. They were after the same prize she was.

Chuck had made an apology, and seemed sincere enough about it. Mako had returned it, and the two of them became sparring partners. Chuck learned fast, and while he never made a move, the two of them became fast friends. He was quick to learn everything she could throw at him about the dojo, and she was eager to learn as much as she could about the training that only Cadets could take part in.

Especially the simulator. It looked like a VR headset, but it could simulate Jaeger combat better than anything they had back when Mako was tearing apart combat pilots. The movements were more responsive, the options more variable.

Newt Geiszler had developed a Feedback system, to simulate actual combat; though that was locked to the pilots that had already been commissioned. Chuck couldn't get to the Feedback Levels, and neither could Mako.

The simulator was the key part of the training regimen. More than anything else, the simulator showed what kind of skill you had for actual combat. The competition for the high score was no less intense than it was in Tokyo City.

And, Mako was thrilled to learn, the Feedback Sim had a solo option.

She sat in with all their lessons. She had been sitting in one lectures and sessions and briefings since she was ten years old. She had managed to clamp down on her 'Teacher's Pet' reaction, no longer shouting out the answers she knew by heart.

But there was a wall between her and the other students. She wasn't one of them. She wasn't a recruit, or a student, or a trainee, or a part of the Shatterdome staff.

What she _was_, exactly... was hard to define.

These thoughts chased her, when suddenly the alarms rang out. There was movement at the Breach.

"Kaiju!" Almost a dozen of the students shouted.

The Dome was a brief flurry of activity.

"Too early! Too early!" Someone was shouting as they ran down the hallways.

Mako knew what that meant. Every time the Kaiju attacked, they had to redraw the pattern. There hadn't been an overdue Kaiju attack in four years. They just kept coming, faster and faster.

There was no panic, no fear. The Dome was well trained, and everyone knew their job.

"Dad!" Chuck shouted at the sight of the familiar face.

Herc Hansen was Stacker's second in command. Nobody was surprised that his son had entered the Academy. Of all the Armed Forces worldwide, PPDC was a family affair.

"Cadets, fall in!" Herc roared over the noise.

They all snapped to attention and gathered around. Mako joined them.

Herc Hansen ran the briefing. "All right, noobs, this is what we're all about. Four minutes ago, the Breach spat out a Category Three Kaiju. We've named it Reaper."

A rumble went through the Cadets. Category Three Kaiju were coming more often now, and it was rare that they went down without taking at least one Jaeger with them.

"Two of our Jaeger are being deployed to intercept." Herc continued. "Look around. Do you see any chaos? Any confusion? Of course not."

The cadets looked around, and they agreed. The hallways were already clear.

"This Dome has a population of a small town. It has as much input and output as any community of six thousand people; and as much impact as any military base." Herc declared. "But this is a company town. When that alarm goes off, everyone here knows exactly where to go, what to do, and how to act. Six thousand people are locked and loaded inside two minutes."

"Where do we go?" Someone asked, uncertain.

Herc grinned. "There are twenty three people here right now." He declared. "The only twenty three people in the Dome without a Battle Station. But only four of you are going to get a Jaeger. Two more are under construction right now, but they won't be finished for another three and a half years. We're redesigning them as we build them. They'll be the only ones built to go one-on-one with a Cat-Three."

Mako glanced at Chuck Hansen then. He was the eldest. Mako was sixteen. Eighteen would get her to the Academy. She could be up for the same Jaeger spot as him. PPDC wasn't like the Marines, or the Air Force. They didn't have a strict schedule here on training. You trained until you were ready to graduate from Cadet to Dome Personnel. If you were training for a Jaeger, you trained until one was available. If you were training for Ops, you trained until you were ready to sit in front of a console. There were plenty of Cadets that would be here until a post opened for them. That's why it was so competitive.

Herc was still talking, unaware of Mako's internal monologue. "Most of you will never see a Jaeger. Nothing against you, but only the Top Two get that exalted post, and even then, only when we have a multi-billion dollar machine available. Most of you are going to get posts in the Dome." He almost smiled. "So I think it's about time you saw what happens around here when battle is joined, don't you think?"

A hum of excitement rang out from the students. Mako didn't make a sound, but felt a thrill go through her. She'd been to the Control Room many times, but she'd never been there during a full Engagement.

"We can't let you into the Control Room." Herc told them. "But those of you who _have_ seen it know the whole room is surrounded by glass. Clear glass in front to show the Jaeger Bay, and black glass in back. That one-way glass is for Presidents, Prime Ministers, UN Officials, Royal Envoys from various countries, Top Level Brass, and anyone who breathes air _way_ above your pay grade, so that they can observe the Best of the Best in action." Herc jerked his head. "Today, it's for Cadets as well. Fall in."

Delighted, the whole lot of them fell into step behind him and quick-marched to the Observation Room.

"Scan in." Herc commanded, and ran his card through the card reader at the door. After this long, the Cadets could do it without breaking stride. They swiped their cards as they went through the door, and the reader flashed green for all of them...

Until Mako. She didn't have clearance. She knew it when she swiped her card, but was hoping nobody would notice the green light flash red.

Except that Herc Hansen noticed everything. "Freeze. Mako, I'm sorry, but you're not a Cadet, and you're not staff. You can't be in here while we're engaging a Kaiju."

"Dad, the Marshal will vouch for her." Chuck promised, already inside. "So will I."

"This isn't about trust, it's about clearance." Herc clarified. "It's not my call." Mako was about to pick a fight on the subject when he held a hand up quickly. "And before you start the inevitable argument, Miss Mori... Dismissed."

And then he shut the door. In. Her. Face.

And Mako suddenly realized how very alone she was in the Dome.

When she was a young girl, everyone welcomed her. She was adopted by the whole Dome, not just Stacker. But now she was a Teenager, in a whole new Dome full of people who didn't know her. She wasn't the town Mascot any more. She was nobody. She wasn't staff, or student. She didn't belong with any of them.

The other recruits were her age, and some of them even liked her, once she proved how good she was. But she wasn't in their case, so she wasn't a competitor, or a compatriot; and she wasn't a teacher, so she didn't have that respect.

And most of the other recruits had come to the Dome with a partner. Most of the other recruits had a team of two people from the moment they stepped in the door.

Mako Mori stood alone.

* * *

The protests outside the Dome did not ease. In fact, they got worse. The two Marshals met to discuss the matter in Stacker's quarters.

"Real coffee." Herc said appreciatively. "It's been _months_ since I've had any."

Stacker smirked. "I made a stop at the Hawaii Listening Post. About the only people left on those islands after the Airlift are the coffee farmers."

Herc took a deep sip. "Don't let the mob find out you have this stuff; it'll turn a protest into a lynch mob."

Pentecost was forced to admit that. "It's not dying down, which can only mean the problem isn't getting better."

"We're getting the same thing in Sydney." Herc Hansen admitted. "They think we're getting preferential treatment, because of the rationing getting tighter."

"Well, we are." Pentecost said honestly. "We get our supplies choppered in on military convoys. Civilians have to live with shipping, as it is."

"As it is? It's non-existent." Herc pointed out. "There hasn't been a cargo liner willing to ship across the Pacific since we threw the Breach Schedule out the window."

Stacker sighed. "Those people are more than angry, they have a legitimate gripe. Lots of essentials get shipped internationally. Components, parts, cars, fresh food, medicines..."

"Globalization went bad on us." Herc nodded. "Back in Australia, we grow a lot of produce, but ten years ago, we got it a lot cheaper by buying it in bulk from China. Now the prices are going back to local, and there's only so much to go around."

"Have you mentioned this to Command?"

"Repeatedly. They responded by kicking it over to the UN. The protesters are all civilians, and the UN is the civilian authority."

Stacker snorted. "Oh, good. Politicians are getting involved; I feel better already." He sipped his coffee. "What did the UN do?"

"They put themselves on the approved list to get supplies of fresh food and other supplies via our convoys." Herc said without hesitation. "They didn't announce it; but that's what they did."

Stacker let out a snort of disgust.

Herc chewed his lip. "I had thought about routing some of our supplies to the relief centres..."

"That's a politician's answer." Stacker shook his head. "It wouldn't work anyway. We've got enough to keep our people fed, and our Jaegers fighting; but just barely; and the suits want to slice our budget every time the topic comes up. We can't support whole cities, let alone the entire Pacific Rim."

"No, we can't." Herc agreed. "I've already got two Jaegers on standby that should be active, because I can't get munitions replaced."

Stacker let out a low hiss between his teeth. "Type Two or Type Four rockets?"

"Type Four."

"Then I might be able to help you." Stacker offered. "We lost one of our Jaegers in this last rumble; and it used Type Four Munitions. I can send the reloads back with you."

"That would be a help." Herc admitted. "And my condolences, by the way."

Stacker nodded acknowledgement. "In any event, that doesn't help our problem. Jaeger Jockeys are part Rock Stars, part War Heroes, but if the mob is forming at our door; we've got a bigger problem than PR."

Herc nodded. "I know. But as long as the Breach is active, we'll never get the planet fed. There's very few countries out there that can feed everyone they've got without trade. Another few years; and hunger will drive us to Anarchy, with or without the Kaiju getting through. The States are already back on breadlines, Australia's got two thirds of the population growing their own food... It's not enough."

Stacker glanced over his shoulder at the room, as though someone were listening in. "There is one idea, but I don't like it."

"I'm listening."

"The UN had this idea to replace the Market entirely. There are two kinds of civilian in the world. The ones that can't get food, and the ones that can't get a job."

Herc groaned. "You're not talking about The Wall?"

"I'm afraid I am."

"It's a waste of time."

"It is. It's also a Work For Food scheme." Pentecost sighed.

Herc nodded. "I ain't against that idea as a rule, given that starving to death is the other option. My thing is this: What happens when some empty shirt gets elected King of something and decides the Wall is actually an option that might work?"

Stacker snorted. "They'll get past that idea the second a Kaiju rips through it."

Herc gave him a look. "I wouldn't be so sure." He warned. "Building a Kaiju costs billions of dollars; using civilians to build a wall gets votes. Which do you think the suits will pick?"

"The Wall offers no protection, so it costs lives." Stacker pointed out.

"Yeah, but the politicians have a solution for that too." Herc pointed out helpfully. "They'll blame us."

* * *

Weeks passed; and construction on The Wall began. Nobody in the Dome thought it would be helpful, let alone successful; but it won the PR War, and the UN took full credit for feeding a huge volunteer workforce.

It was barter on an international scale; trading work for food; with little money being involved.

There was some argument as to whether or not it mattered, but nobody wanted to say that starvation was a better option. There was some criticism that The Wall was using up a lot of materials; but the mining industry needed to eat too.

In the Dome, lessons continued. Mako joined some of them, but found her enthusiasm waning. She knew all the theory backwards and forwards; and the practical work was off limits to her without a partner, or a uniform.

There was nothing more she could learn in those classes.

She had shared these thoughts with Stacker.

* * *

"You're not wrong." Stacker agreed. "For the most part, girls your age are specializing in their education; preparing for the workforce." He let out a breath between his teeth. "Not that there's much of a workforce out there any more."

"I know what my chosen profession is." Mako told him, inviting him to say something on the matter.

Pentecost said nothing.

Mako pushed it a little. "Of course; half the cadet class that's here in training? Most of them showed up with a partner. But some didn't. Everyone assumes Chuck Hansen would partner with his father. I could talk to one of them and see..."

"No." Stacker told her instantly. "There's nobody down there worth your time. You need a partner than can keep up with you and rein you in at the same time." He reached into his desk and pulled out a folder. "But, you aren't wrong about needing something more... official here."

Mako hadn't heard a word he said since he said 'no'. "But-"

"Mako, use your discretion with this information." Stacker told her. "The Canada Dome is going to be covering Command and Control during all Breaches on the western seaboard for the next few months."

Mako blinked. "Why?"

"There's an upgrade to the communication systems for the Alaska Dome in progress, so they need us as temporary Command and Control. And the UN is using it as a trial run."

"A trial run for what?"

"For me." Stacker explained. "I'm going to be named Region Marshal."

Mako looked up sharply. "That would give you command over every Done in the States. Or are they transferring you to the Asian Pacific Theatre?"

"No, they're keeping me here." Stacker nodded. "But my workload will jump by about a thousand percent. I will need to appoint a staff. Hansen will be our Australasia Liaison, I'll have department heads... and I'll need a personal assistant." He would have been smiling, if he ever smiled any more. "It would get you in every door that opens for me. No more locked doors."

The idea held a certain appeal, but Mako felt a thrill of horror go through her. "Are you benching me?" She asked quietly.

Pentecost seemed surprised by the question. "Benching you?"

Mako pointed at the door, gesturing at the entire Dome. "The Cadets are terrified of desk jobs. When you get a desk, or a clipboard, you never get combat. When Tasmin was benched; they promoted her. When you refused to take another partner, they promoted you. You deserve it; but..." She bit her lip. "Making me your assistant would be a massive promotion. But if it means I have to give up the Jaeger Program..."

"I promised you once that you would get your chance." Stacker said seriously. "I meant that. But there's only so far you can go alone at sixteen."

Long silence. Mako fought with herself for a lifetime; and finally said the thought aloud. "You could be my partner."

Stacker gave her a look of disgusted shock. "My God, Mako."

Mako felt her eyes bug out when she realized what it must have sounded like and back-pedalled. "No! Not..." She squeezed her eyes shut a moment and fought for words. "I loved Tasmin too. Not like you did. There's _nobody_ who feels her loss as deep as you do. I ask, because... Tasmin asked me, who would I trust enough? Who would I know well enough... She was asking who did I love more than anyone in the world? Because that's what's needed, isn't it?"

Pentecost looked around briefly, even in his private rooms. he always did, whenever he was about to soften that steel game face of his. After the glance, he relaxed and gave her an almost-smile. "Mako..."

"We've fought together before. You trained me." Mako insisted, her words shifting into Japanese. "Herc Hansen and his son are going to be a team. I understand why you refused to take another partner after Tasmin got sick, but if you'll accept nobody else as my partner, we'd almost certainly be a good match, wouldn't we?" He didn't answer for a moment, and she pushed it, her voice small and almost scared. "Wouldn't we... father?"

Fragile silence.

"Yes." He admitted. "But..."

Mako leaned back, hurt. "But you don't want to." She breathed. Tasmin's voice came back to her then, warning that the softer, gentler side of her father would die with her that day...

_But not the side that loves me. _Mako clung to that promise. "You don't trust me enough to let me in?"

"I do." He promised her swiftly... and his nose started bleeding.

Mako saw it, and her stomach dropped through the floorboards. "...no."

Pentecost put a hand to his nose and sighed, pulling out his handkerchief. "I didn't want to tell you."

Mako was trying not to throw up. "All this time, I thought you took the Marshal Rank because you didn't want to replace Tasmin."

"Radiation scarring... inside. I'll never see a Jaeger again." He looked at her firmly. "I have to believe that you can still fight them, even as flesh and blood alone. If I can, so can you."

She couldn't take her eyes off the drops of blood. It was happening all over again. She was losing everything, all over again. The Kaiju war had taken even her adopted family away from her. She stepped forward and put her face into his chest, wrapping him up in a tight hug. "I won't ask any more." She promised him instantly. "I won't ask you for it. I'm sorry! I'll never push again, I swear. I won't ask again."

He hugged her back. "Mako..."

She was clinging to him. "Please!" She croaked. "I won't ask again. I promise. I won't push for it. I'll... I'll be your assistant! I'll take care of you, I promise!" She would have promised him anything, as though not seeking to become a Pilot would somehow heal his radiation sickness.

"Your time will come, Mako. I promise." He whispered, still holding one hand to his nose, even as he held her too. "But not with me."

Mako sniffed, and croaked out the question. "...how long?"

He sighed as the nosebleed stopped. "I have... another ten years. But it doesn't matter,"

"How can it not?!"

"Because the Events are accelerating. Ten years is longer than any of us have."

Mako looked down, conceding the point.

"Killing Kaiju and you. These are the only things I have left in my universe." He told her. "And at the moment, that's all you have in your life too." He rested his hands on her shoulders. "There will come a time, daughter. There will come a moment when you will be ready; and it will be the worst day of my life, and I will send you out to the Miracle Mile. If I do manage to get over it, and put you in a Jaeger, I need to make damn sure that whoever's out there with you is someone that can do what I've never been able to, and replace what the monsters tore out of your soul."

Mako shivered. "I did a search of my own once; looking up 'compatible personality types'?" She sighed. "All I found were dating sites. People only want compatibility for a happy ending. I want one for a war."

Pentecost almost smiled. "I know what you mean."

Mako looked frustrated with herself. "My father was very traditional. He believed that Jaeger pilots were true soul mates, bound together generation after generation, destined to find each other as they reincarnate; and unable to exist properly without finding each other. That neither pilot could be a complete person without the other one. How selfish is it, to think that I could actually find someone like that at sixteen, someone who is _literally_ the other half of me, and then expect us both to charge down a Kaiju?"

Pentecost was still almost smiling. "Daughter, if there is a perfect other half for you out there, they'd be dedicated to the charge, with or without you. Because I'm not just keeping you here until you've found a willing partner; I'm looking for your other half. No siblings. No parents left, except for me, and I'm not able. You need to find someone outside your own life. And I'm under no illusions: If he or she's not a relative, then _they'r_e your soul mate; in the truest sense of the term as your father knew it."

Mako forced her face into a smile, but she didn't feel it. Stacker made his face smile, but she could tell it was fake.

The alarms went off suddenly.

**"BREACH ACTIVITY! REPEAT! ACTIVITY AT THE BREACH! ALL HANDS, BATTLE STATIONS!"**

Pentecost was already moving. He didn't say anything else. There was nothing else to say. He had to cover the entire Western Seaboard now; the alarms would come more frequently. The Kaiju could be heading anywhere from Alaska to San Diego. Mako let him go. She was still the only one on the base without a battle station.

* * *

Gypsy Danger was destroyed that night.

* * *

She had lost him.

She pushed that thought away as quickly as she could, and as often as it had come up. But it kept come back. She had lost him, as sure as he'd lost Tasmin.

The Dojo revealed all, and Mako knew the second she went into the routine that she wasn't going to handle it. She actually tripped over her own feet.

The Dojo wasn't going to do it. She was too... emotional. The thought disgusted her. Since she was a little girl, the first thing Tasmin had drilled into her was that she needed control.

The Gym was where she exorcised her demons. But now that wasn't good enough. Onibaba was a Category One. One of the first Kaiju. It was a baby, compared to some of the things that were slithering out of the ocean now.

But Onibaba had killed her parents, her siblings... And it had killed Tasmin. And it had killed Pentecost.

Her mortal fear at losing Pentecost transformed instantly. It wasn't fear that made her lose control. It was hate. She _hated_ Onibaba. Of all the Kaiju that she wanted to exterminate, of all the wretched monsters that she was driven to butcher, the one she hated most had been dead for years already. And yet, it was still killing people she loved, and doing it slow and painful. Onibaba's claws were reaching from the grave and destroying her life all over again.

The Dojo wasn't going to do it. She didn't want to hone her mind and focus her centre. She wanted to kill something.

Instead, she went to the Simulator.

She wasn't on the approved list, but she knew ways around that. She wasn't being impatient. She was never going to be part of the Jager Program now. The Simulator was all she was going to get. She fit the headset, the harness, the gloves... She did it all without thinking.

And then she reached the scenario list. The simulator was extremely customisable. She could simulate fighting underwater near the Breach, in a city, on the coast... She could pick any Jaeger, any Kaiju, or randomize a new one.

Random was not her way. She knew what she wanted.

She set the simulator to put her in Tokyo. She set herself up in Coyote Tango. And the Kaiju she chose to fight was Onibaba.

"I will never get my chance to kill you." She said simply. "And a promise prevents me from ever facing your kin." Her teeth bared. "You are the lucky one, Hell-Thing. I hate you, but I love my father more."

_But I have this_. She finished silently, and began the simulation.

Onibaba was dead in thirty five seconds. A new simulator record. She reset the sim, and dialled up the difficulty. She killed Onibaba in forty seconds. She did it again. Onibaba lasted almost a minute.

She did it again. Again.

_Die, you monster; suffer and die, and let me dismember you; and then let me do it all over again. I'll bring you back over and over and kill you over and over! I hate you! I hate you!_

Almost manic, she tore Onibaba limb from clawed limb, over and over. It wasn't tactical, it was visceral. Mako was almost Drifting with herself. Her mind had melted away, and lost itself in the frenzy of blow and counter-blow.

_Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You!_

Onibaba fell, once again; and the Simulation ended. Mako was about to hit the reset, when she became aware of people shouting and cheering. She lifted the headset, and discovered she had an audience. The other recruits, some of the staff, a few of the pilots...

And then she'd noticed the screen behind her.

**15-0.**

She honestly hadn't noticed it, but she'd run the simulation over a dozen times, and the computer made it harder every round... and she'd never lost.

"Is..." She wasn't sure how to ask. "Is that number right?"

About a dozen people assured her it was, and with a cold, brilliant smile, Mako ran the simulation again. And again. And again.

**18-0.**

It was almost unprecedented. She'd started on a beginner setting, but by now, she was well into the professional standings. The scoreboard only allowed for recruits, but everyone could see the numbers. Having zero losses put her unnaturally high in the rankings.

"Again!" Mako declared, and her audience cheered.

**20-0.**

"Again!" Mako declared, and her audience cheered.

But the simulation wouldn't restart. Mako pulled the headset off and checked it. So did a few of the more experienced students.

Chuck Hansen put it together first. "She's at the Pro-Levels!" He declared to the room with a shark-like grin. "The computer won't let her go any higher!"

The audience whooped at the news, but Mako snatched the headset back. "Put your code in!" She told Chuck. "Do it now!"

Chuck hesitated. "I... Mako, you don't do that. I mean, there's a reason why you don't get to go any harder. Level Twenty is the Feedback Level. You dial it up any harder and you can do damage to yourself."

"I can handle it!" Mako insisted. "Put your code in."

The room dropped to a hush, waiting to see what happened next.

Chuck hesitated. "I can't do that."

Mako deflated, and turned to the computer. There was a prompt on the screen, waiting for an access code. After a moment, she stepped forward, and tapped in a code herself. It was almost twenty digits long.

******Marshal Stacker Pentecost****:** ___Code Confirmed._

A chorus of cat-calls rang out, and Mako caught a glimpse of Chuck's face going pale. He bit his lip and ran for the door, as she pulled the headset back on.

* * *

_Onibaba stalked through the streets of Tokyo City. Coyote Tango was waiting. Just as she remembered, Onibaba was tearing down buildings when she deployed. It didn't wait for her. It charged._

_Mako was more than willing to meet it halfway, powering down the streets. She was kicking cars out of her way, unconcerned with them..._

_And then they collided._

_They'd done it before in the previous sims, but Mako was at the Feedback level now. She could almost feel the spark jump from the headset to her brain, and suddenly the air exploded from her lungs. Onibaba had slammed into her, and it felt like a linebacker had speared into her stomach._

_The Kaiju roared, as Coyote Tango was bent double over it's horns. Mako sank her steel fingers into its body, getting a good grip. Onibaba writhed, trying to get free._

_But Coyote Tango wasn't trying to lift it, it was getting it's fingers in deep enough to tear the huge body apart. Mako heaved with all her strength, feeling the creatures bones twist..._

___Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You-Hate-You!_

_And then she howled as Onibaba sank it's teeth into her forearm. Mako shouted again as it's teeth ground against her. Feedback mode made it suddenly become so terrifyingly real. She wasn't being injured. A holographic creature couldn't make her bleed; but the pain was real. The same feedback that let her stand in for the Steel Samurai meant she was all in._

_The pain made her lose focus for a second, and Onibaba was quick to take advantage. It smashed Coyote Tango hard, sending her sprawling against a skyscraper, which toppled under the impact. _

_Mako tried to stand up, but Onibaba was on her already. Coyote Tango opened up with all the cannons and rocket launchers it had, but the bulk of the creature was on her, holding her down._

_Mako grit her teeth against the sudden agony that lanced through her. Rage came to meet the pain instantly. "You're not going to take me too!" She raged against it, going completely berserk, thrashing and screaming..._

* * *

She was still thrashing and screaming, even after the simulator shut down suddenly. Mako was in the zone so deeply that she kept fighting against monsters that weren't there for a full ten seconds before she came out of herself. When her eyes refocused, she looked back to the control room, and found Pentecost with his hand on the power switch.

Instantly, she transformed from a stone cold death dealer to a little girl with her hand caught in the cookie jar. "I... I was..."

Pentecost looked over at the rest of the enthralled room. "Out."

They crowd almost sprinted for the door.

Once they were alone, he whirled on her. "Going into a Feedback Simulator alone? You know how crazy that is?"

"I don't need a Drift partner for the simulator." She said, as thought that was the point.

He just looked at her.

"You never said I couldn't." She blurted out. "Besides, I'm sixteen. Aren't I supposed to be doing crazy things to turn your hair gray?"

"Doing something crazy like a normal teenage girl would be staying out late at a drunken party, or dying your hair blue." He looked sickly at her. "There's only one reason you go into a simulator. And that's to simulate combat against Kaiju."

"That can't surprise you." She scorned. "Why do I have to fight you too?!"

"Damnit Mako, we just lost a pilot; and I come down here to see you going feral against..." He suddenly ran out of words. "You're my daughter."

Mako felt her blood boil. "I've already agreed to be your assistant! The Sim is as close as I'll ever get! A day ago, I knew you hated the idea of sending your daughter into the fight. A day ago, I would have had to choose whether to be your daughter or a Steel Samurai! Which do you think I would have picked?!"

Pentecost pulled back then, and she wished instantly she could take back the words she had spoken in her rage. The look on his face was something truly different. Something nobody had ever seen before.

He was ___hurt_.

* * *

"Mind if I join you?"

Mako looked up, shaken out of her thoughts. Chuck Hansen was standing, with his tray in his hand. It was far too late for Dinner, but she supposed neither of them had eaten.

The Dome was pretty quiet, especially for the Mess Hall. They'd lost a Jaeger; and a pilot, which usually made things muted for a few days. Truthfully, she'd barely noticed, a million miles away.

Chuck sat down without her saying anything. "Did I get you in trouble?"

Mako shook her head, staring at her untouched tray. "Not nearly as much as I got myself into."

"Mako, you're amazing; but you're reckless." Chuck began. "If I hadn't..."

Mako stopped him. "You did the right thing." She said softly. "It doesn't matter. I... I won't be coming back to classes any more."

"The Old Man kick you out?" Chuck seemed truly stunned.

"Worse. He promoted me." Mako said morosely.

Long silence.

"You hear about Gypsy Danger?"

"I heard one of the pilots might survive." Mako offered.

Chuck glanced over his shoulder. "He'd be better off if he didn't."

"He would." Mako agreed. She picked up her fork but didn't use it. She still preferred chopsticks, even after this long. "I screwed up." She said quietly.

Chuck nodded. "We all do it. You're sixteen. If my dad can forgive me for it, Pentecost will forgive you." He toasted her with his forkful of food. "Mako, if we're ever going to take a moment to be crazy and stupid and rebellious, it's now. God knows we can't do it once we're piloting Jaegers."

Mako suddenly felt sick. She'd never done anything... wild. She'd poured her whole soul into training for a job tat she'd promised never to ask for. She'd never gone out and gotten drunk, she'd never snuck out to a concert, or gone shopping for clothes and shoes... She'd never in her life done anything that didn't help her on her Grand Crusade.

"Drinking age in Australia is eighteen, right?" Mako heard her voice say.

"Yep." Chuck agreed.

"In the USA, it's twenty one." Mako said without letting herself think about it. "Eighteen here in Canada, too." She put her fork down. "Let's go."

* * *

Mako Mori went out and got drunk with Chuck Hansen that night. The first time she had ever left the base without Pentecost, the first time she had ever tried her hand at drinking. Chuck snuck her back into her room without being seen, and she never told anyone who had bought the beer for her.

When Stacker went to see her the next morning, he discovered her, hungover, throwing up... and somewhere during the night, she had died her hair bright blue.

Stacker had held her almost fluorescent hair back patiently while she up-chucked the entire night's excursions. She rolled her head back enough to apologize for snapping at him the night before. Stacker forgave her, of course; and Mako went right back to throwing up again.

A day later, Mako looked at the simulator scoreboard, and discovered that she had been added to the rankings. The first person to be on the scorecard without being in training.

The Marshal never called her 'daughter' again.

* * *

**AN**: _Read and review! Oh, and anyone who's about to pounce on me for making Chuck and Mako out of character with each other? Just wait and see. We've still got a few years to cover until we reach the movie._


End file.
